#he gets to be background blurred because i didn't feel like fixing his fucked up neck seam in post
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defectors do it better
Taken at 'The Outlook' Crystal / Goblin Empyrean / Ward 20 / Plot 28
#this is unironically my favorite screenshot i've taken so far#that is in fact cid nan bloody garland in the background#he gets to be background blurred because i didn't feel like fixing his fucked up neck seam in post#sorry buddy#nero wasn't invited because he ran off into the hills after the omega raids#lucia junius#ffxiv screenshots#ffxiv screenies#ffxiv gpose#gposers#ajisaijar#gposejar#lucia#ajisai et lucia#lucia is a bad bitch and i love her so much
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Cool Girl
Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / previous
You live your life like nothing happened.
Or at least, you try.
You go to work after the weekend is over, smile at yourself in the mirror repeatedly to make sure nothing seems amiss, fix your hair, your makeup, your clothes until you appear collected- and cool.
It's much easier to shove it all down, to try to block it out, instead of really thinking about it. Dissecting it until it turns your stomach and makes you sick.
They didn't choose you. Get over it.
Still, a piece of your heart latches onto the bouquet. The look on Johnny's face. The way he begged.
Maybe...
No.
You're fine, and you don't need them, and you're unaffected.
You're dead on your feet by the time you get home. The entire day was a slog, slow and heavy, and you spent most of it wading through paperwork and numbers, lines of spreadsheets blurring together in your head until they became a jumbled mess.
You need a glass of wine.
Or a bottle.
It doesn't take anyone much convincing. You manage to wrangle two friends into meeting up at the bar down the street, the one that has half priced bottles on Monday night. It's a match made in heaven, for your sanity and your wallet, and it feels good to let go a little bit. Try to let them go, even.
One bottle turns to two, and you hardly bat an eye. The misery you're doomed to experience because of this is a tomorrow problem.
You're stuck on the sidewalk.
Tab paid, friends gone, and you're still here, back against a brick wall, staring at the street, watching cars and people pass by.
You're frozen in time. Trapped inside this moment, turning yourself over and over in your mind.
Maybe you'll end up alone. Maybe it just won't happen for you. You'll always be a secret, a casual fuck, a nothing to no one.
A nothing to them.
The idea, the thought of being alone for the rest of your life washes a cold chill over your skin.
It's a breezy night, comfortable by all standards, but still, you shiver, trying to maintain your balance in the sloshing sea of your equilibrium, overpowered by too many glasses of Malbec.
You stare at your phone. It feels like you're not in the driver's seat, in this moment, like you're not in your body. You're watching yourself scroll through you contacts, watching yourself open Johnny's, click the icon for a phone call-
and then you're silent when he answers on the first ring, your name cracking from his mouth like a thunderclap. Panicked. Excited.
But you say nothing. There's noise in the background, people out on the patio, on the sidewalk, talking, laughing, carrying on. Spilling out from the mouth of the bar like a flood.
"Can ye hear me?"
"Yeah." you whisper, like it's a secret.
"What're ye doin'?"
"I'm drunk." you blurt, eyeing a group of guys. "Think 'm gonna take someone home." What? What are you saying? Stop talking.
"Where are you?" It's Simon now, keyed up, rough and impatient.
"At a bar."
"It's Monday." You never go out on Monday. You know that, and they know too. You're always in bed by ten, ready to get up at the crack of dawn to head into work.
"It's Monday." You repeat, steel edge of your phone digging in the skin of your palm.
"Where are you?" He demands, again, and you shake your head.
"Dunno-" the denial is interrupted by a hiccup. "At a bar, like I said." What're you doing? You're antagonizing them.
"Love, tell us where ye are, we'll come-" You press the big red button to end the call. Cutting him off, cutting them both off, shutting them out.
And then you know, you can feel it in your bones-
You shouldn't have done that.
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lexi had liked mckenzie for longer than she could remember. at first, she thought she tried to convince herself that, the only reason why she felt that way was because they were too close. but, at some point she stopped denying the fact that she had felt for her best friend. it was hard being around the brunette when her boyfriend was around, maybe that was one of the reasons why lexi started seeing suburban moms when she felt lonely or she didn't have much to do on a friday night. or when mckenzie was busy. if mckezie had asked her to go out with her, she would have been there for her. she always would. lexi looked down at mckezie's question. " yeah, but i really thought about telling you he wasn't worth your attention " she shrugged, " he was the worst guy you could have fallen for, kenzie " lexi laughed trying to forget about the tension that they were breathing in that fitting room. " don't worry about it, after all that asshole is not here, and i am " she chuckled, trying to make mckezie feel better. it wasn't her fault after all, no one can decide who they fall for. " i'll be the boss " she chuckled. lexi raised her hands as the other asked her to undo the zipper on her back. " someone got excited " she chuckled as her hands, only stopping halfway because of her girl's words. " that sounds dangerous " she chuckled, " we could get kicked out " she chuckled, finally unzipping the top. " lucky for you, i don't want our first time being inside a boutique " lexi mused as she pressed a kiss against's mckenzie's neck.
mckenzie didn't realise that lexi had a crush on her for the longest time because she was too caught up trying to impress a boy that couldn't have gave less of a fuck. she didn't see his red flags until it was too late and she got dumped for not being good enough for him anymore. mckenzie didn't see him putting the same amount of love and effort into the relationship as she had been doing which kind of suck because it felt like he didn't love her enough to care about how she was feeling from early on. mckenzie felt stupid for being in that relationship for so long thinking that she was going to be the girl to change him and fix things. the dude couldn't be fixed. all the while she didn't know her best friend in the whole entire was there in the background with a crush on her which was honestly surprising when she found out. mckenzie always thought that lexi was attractive but she didn't know she could feel more until the friendship line between them started to blur into something even more flirty. "i'm pretty sure the expressions you use to pull whenever he was on some tangent were more than enough to show me what you thought about him as a person." mckenzie had ignore the looks at the time. now, however, it was apparent that lexi couldn't stand her ex boyfriend because of how much of a prick he'd been and still was. "mhm. i really went wrong with him. it was a big mistake on my part." mckenzie deserved to feel loved and respected and care about. she shouldn't have had to fight to be loved. lexi was going to look great in some suit pants and nicely fitted top. mckenzie could already imagine how well they were going to look together. she looked in the mirror the moment the other girl's mouth pressed against her neck which made her stomach fill with butterflies. the kiss was sweet and innocent. "so you've been thinking about our first time together?" lexi was mentioning that she didn't want their first time to be in a boutique which meant she wanted it to be somewhere else. "i'm gonna be honest with you. i'm a little nervous. i lack experience with other girls."
lexi had liked mckenzie for longer than she could remember. at first, she thought she tried to convince herself that, the only reason why she felt that way was because they were too close. but, at some point she stopped denying the fact that she had felt for her best friend. it was hard being around the brunette when her boyfriend was around, maybe that was one of the reasons why lexi started seeing suburban moms when she felt lonely or she didn't have much to do on a friday night. or when mckenzie was busy. if mckezie had asked her to go out with her, she would have been there for her. she always would. lexi looked down at mckezie's question. " yeah, but i really thought about telling you he wasn't worth your attention " she shrugged, " he was the worst guy you could have fallen for, kenzie " lexi laughed trying to forget about the tension that they were breathing in that fitting room. " don't worry about it, after all that asshole is not here, and i am " she chuckled, trying to make mckezie feel better. it wasn't her fault after all, no one can decide who they fall for. " i'll be the boss " she chuckled. lexi raised her hands as the other asked her to undo the zipper on her back. " someone got excited " she chuckled as her hands, only stopping halfway because of her girl's words. " that sounds dangerous " she chuckled, " we could get kicked out " she chuckled, finally unzipping the top. " lucky for you, i don't want our first time being inside a boutique " lexi mused as she pressed a kiss against's mckenzie's neck.
mckenzie didn't realise that lexi had a crush on her for the longest time because she was too caught up trying to impress a boy that couldn't have gave less of a fuck. she didn't see his red flags until it was too late and she got dumped for not being good enough for him anymore. mckenzie didn't see him putting the same amount of love and effort into the relationship as she had been doing which kind of suck because it felt like he didn't love her enough to care about how she was feeling from early on. mckenzie felt stupid for being in that relationship for so long thinking that she was going to be the girl to change him and fix things. the dude couldn't be fixed. all the while she didn't know her best friend in the whole entire was there in the background with a crush on her which was honestly surprising when she found out. mckenzie always thought that lexi was attractive but she didn't know she could feel more until the friendship line between them started to blur into something even more flirty. "i'm pretty sure the expressions you use to pull whenever he was on some tangent were more than enough to show me what you thought about him as a person." mckenzie had ignore the looks at the time. now, however, it was apparent that lexi couldn't stand her ex boyfriend because of how much of a prick he'd been and still was. "mhm. i really went wrong with him. it was a big mistake on my part." mckenzie deserved to feel loved and respected and care about. she shouldn't have had to fight to be loved. lexi was going to look great in some suit pants and nicely fitted top. mckenzie could already imagine how well they were going to look together. she looked in the mirror the moment the other girl's mouth pressed against her neck which made her stomach fill with butterflies. the kiss was sweet and innocent. "so you've been thinking about our first time together?" lexi was mentioning that she didn't want their first time to be in a boutique which meant she wanted it to be somewhere else. "i'm gonna be honest with you. i'm a little nervous. i lack experience with other girls."
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...but red is mine [9]
Read Previous Chapter Here
___
“You became a zombie?”
***
The trip down the river, into a cab that carried him back to the city where he took a bus, all the while receiving concerned looks from other road-users, was kind of a blur. One moment, he was leaning on a cabinet, realizing that Vegas was never going to let him go. The next moment, Pete was being engulfed in a tight hug, from all sides, to the background music of Khun Tankhun screaming in his ear.
If he'd been dazed before, Pete was definitely back on planet earth. Because if there was one thing Khun Tankhun's screams could do, it was awaken the soul and keep it alert. Whether it wanted to be, or not.
Sitting in the bathtub, Pete wrapped his arms around his knees, trembling. He was home. He was home. He was home. He'd made it through the gates and he was finally home. He'd slept eight nights at Vegas' safehouse, but he'd had a million dreams about being back home.
Pete prayed that this was real, and not just another dream.
"Who did this to you?" Porsche asked. "Tell me and I'll go handle it."
This wasn't his friend anymore.
Maybe when Pete left, a tiny part of Porsche could have been just a friend. Right now, the man talking to Pete was not his friend. This wasn't Porsche. This was an institute.
His friend would comfort him, say horrible things about Vegas to make Pete feel better. His friend would let him cry, take him to a wrestling ring and let Pete punch it out till he felt nothing. A friend would give Pete an outlet.
But this man in front of Pete would hurt Vegas.
Because there was nothing holding Porsche back. It wasn't like before when Porsche had been accused of hurting Khun Macau and Khun Kinn had had to exact punishment. This Porsche could march right up to Vegas, put a bullet in his head and walk away. Because, not only did Porsche have Khun Kinn's ear, Vegas was on the run. Vegas could get hurt.
Try as he might, that was the last thing Pete wanted.
"Pete,” Porsche said, sternly.
Pete jerked, lifting his head up, not quite able to look Porsche in the eye.
“Please believe me.” He forced himself to look up. “I’m asking you,” Pete said, his voice breaking. Regaining his composure, he grinned at Porsche. “Could you fix me up?”
Pete was beyond relieved when Porsche let it go.
He disinfected the wounds on Pete’s shoulder, moving around to get to Pete’s back. As he worked, slowly and quietly, Pete kept pinching himself to wake up. He needed this to be real. He needed to be here. Because he'd made the right decision. Pete wasn't a pet. He wasn't the new hedgehog on two feet that Vegas could fuck whenever he wanted.
"Shit," Porsche said, dropping the cotton bud as he reached for the drugs.
"What is it?" Pete asked.
"I forgot about your mark." He poured out two tablets of pain meds. "Take these. They should ease some of the pain so she doesn't feel it."
"He won't feel anything," Pete said, ignoring the meds.
You're my soulmate.
Pete closed his eyes and turned away as if Vegas was standing before him, opening his shirt to show Pete the silver mark. As if Pete wanted to see it. As if that was supposed to mean anything. He'd lured Pete back with his sadness, then locked him up again. But because that wasn't working, Vegas chose that moment to pull the soulmate card?
He really must have thought that Pete was a fool. That Pete would stay just for a fucking soulmate mark.
"He?" Porsche asked, putting the drugs back.
"I don't need the drugs."
Even if Vegas' mark wasn't sealed, Pete wouldn't have taken the drugs. In fact, he wished the mark was unsealed so that Vegas could feel every inch of what he'd done to Pete. Because Pete knew, for someone so in love with inflicting pain, Vegas wouldn't be able to take half of it.
It was what he wanted. Pete didn't need pain meds. Pete was used to pain on his own. He'd lived with pain. Grown with pain. Pain was a part of his job and his life. He could handle physical pain.
"If that's what you want," Porsche said, resuming the cleaning.
The thing that hurt, the thing that brought tears to Pete's eyes, was something far deeper than any medicine would ever be able to salve.
***
“Stay with me.”
***
Pete hated his bed.
It was the same bed he'd slept in for years, but now, it felt wrong. He had no idea why. When he tried to go to sleep, he tossed and turned till he gave up and tried to go for a walk. But at the threshold of his room, Pete stopped. He knew he was back home, but a little part of him still felt as if he stepped out without... asking, if he left without permission, everything would stop being okay.
“I left on my own,” Pete said. “I don’t need your permission.”
Lifting his leg, he leaned outside. But as soon as his foot touched the ground, Pete pulled back into the room, shut the door and fell against it. Stupid. He was so stupid. Vegas was right. Pete was a fool. He was an adult who couldn't even think right.
Rubbing his wrists, he paced around the room. If he couldn't walk outside, he could walk in here. This was his space, after all. This was his home. There was no one to fear here. No one to want. No one to miss. No one to long for. No one to wish was here, was present, coming to sit on Pete's bed, to make small talk about nothing.
No one to look at Pete like Pete had all the answers. No one to want Pete like it was painful and inevitable. Like it was fated to be.
Like their souls were mated in the stars. Forever and ever. Regardless of Pete's mundane choices.
Because fate had thrust them together.
Sitting on his bed, Pete realized it was morning.
He'd paced all through the night.
There was a knock at the door and Porsche poked his head in.
“You’re awake.”
“Do you need me?” Pete asked, standing up again.
He staggered back and sat again as the strain of walking the whole night bogged him down.
“Are you alright?”
“Awesome,” Pete said, smiling at Porsche.
Khun Tankhun asked me to invite you to a party at Yok’s, Pete’s own voice echoed in his head.
“Tankhun wants to take you out tonight. You know? To lift your spirits.”
Pete laughed.
A while back, he was the one inviting Porsche to a party to lift his spirits. He wondered if this was how Porsche had been feeling: strained, pulled in a million directions, wanting a man who had put him through so much pain that he was considering pressing a knife into his own throat. Was it Khun Kinn? Was this how they started? With so much pain that the thought of tomorrow felt like someone was pulling nails from Pete’s toes?
Because Porsche looked alright, currently.
Would Pete ever be alright?
Pete didn't think so. Khun Kinn couldn’t have put Porsche through what Vegas put Pete through. He shook his head. No. Khun Kinn was a good man. Porsche wanted Khun Kinn. Pete didn’t want the man who’d done this to him.
This was different.
“I’ll go, under one condition.”
“Anything,” Porsche said, sitting on his former bed.
“You take me somewhere. No questions asked.”
“Where?”
That evening, the drive to the hospital was quiet. Stifled. Pete’s hands kept alternating, rubbing his wrists, encircling his wrists, memories of Vegas all around him, above him, beneath him, behind him, Vegas smiling, crying, angry. Pete just wanted it to stop.
“You know there’s a doctor back at the mansion, right?”
Pete didn’t go there, for the same reason he didn’t submit himself for an examination as soon as he came back. The doctors would see the marks on his body and know what had happened. They’d realize that Pete had succumbed to his attacker, in unimaginable ways.
They wouldn’t know that Pete did not want all of it. They’d just know his shame. And they’d hate him for it. They’d report him to Khun Kinn, and worse, Khun Tankhun. Then he’d get interrogated and exposed.
No, this was Pete’s private business. He didn’t have to do anything that made him uncomfortable anymore.
"Okay then," the doctor said, moving behind his desk after the examination as Pete sat up from where he'd been lying on his stomach.
"Are we good to go?"
"There are few things to discuss. You'll have to see our resident psychologist-"
"For what?" Pete asked.
"Mr. Saengthem, you're asking for a dangerous procedure. We like to make sure that our patients are ready for the risks."
"What risks? I've told you that I want the mark sealed."
"You're an adult, Sir. The best time to seal a mark is when you're a child. At this age, you're at a high risk of infection or worse. Not only that, the mark is in a very precarious spot. You do realize that the seal is an inch deep?"
"I don't care."
"At your age, it would be permanent. Not the kind of decision you can take back."
"I don't care."
"Talk to the psychologist and if they recommend it, we will go ahead."
Talk to a psychologist? So that they can open that big red door titled, "Vegas" and walk right into the problem? No way.
“Thank you for your time,” Pete said, marching out as Porsche followed him silently.
Once in the car again, on the way to the bar, Pete looked out the window, wiping the stupid tears falling from his eyes.
“Before you left,” Porsche said. “Your soulmate was a girl and your mark was the most precious thing to you.”
“Porsche-”
“Now, it’s a “he” that you want sealed away?”
“You said you wouldn’t ask any questions.”
“Pete-”
“If you’re going to ask, take me home.”
Porsche pressed his lips together and inhaled, his rage vibrating from his body as he drove. It didn’t matter though. This wasn’t Porsche’s decision. This wasn’t his business. Pete may have forgotten what it was like to take ownership of his own life, but he’d be damned if anybody made him feel guilty for trying to make his own decisions.
***
“I’m sorry, Pete.”
Cigarettes were a bad habit. Not just because you tended to die from them as your insides shriveled up into goofy bullshit. But because when you separated yourself from the group to go take smoke breaks that you shouldn’t even have, evil bastards tended to show up out of nowhere with lighters that you definitely didn’t need.
***
And Pete was right.
Vegas was a weakling. He’d known it all along. A fair chance against Pete wasn’t something he could stand. Hence the torture and the mind games. Really. Pete could drop this gun and pay him back every cent of all he’d given to Pete.
“Are you going to shoot me?”
Pete blinked, his resolve wavering just a tiny bit.
He hated Vegas so much. His ability to switch from angry to pathetic and right back was probably the most dangerous tool in his box. Pete knew this. Pete KNEW this. And yet, watching it manifest in front of him again, Pete felt like he was back at the safehouse.
“Are you?”
Fucking hell.
Pete hesitated when Vegas came closer, but instead of pushing the gun out of the way, Vegas grabbed it and pointed it at his own chest.
“Why don’t you shoot?”
I don’t know, Pete wanted to say.
“Don’t you want me to disappear?”
No.
“Shoot me already.”
I don’t want to.
“SHOOT ME!” Vegas yelled.
Pete broke, tears spilling from his eyes as he sobbed.
He couldn't help it. Everything just kind of stopped moving while moving too fast, at the same time, punching into Pete’s gut. Vegas pulled him into his arms. Pete didn’t want to be there. But he didn’t want to leave. This was Vegas. The man who’d done atrocious things to Pete. Pete’s biggest fear. Pete’s worst nightmare.
But this was Vegas.
That was it. That was the entire argument in Vegas’ favor.
Crumbling to the floor as Vegas followed him, Pete realized that Vegas was right. Pete really was a fool to be allowing himself this close to Vegas again. Any sensible adult would be running in the opposite direction.
And yet, all Pete wanted to do was touch Vegas’ face, look at him, be sure that he was real. That he was here.
“I’m sorry.”
The door to the bar opened as a bartender came to throw the trash out, breaking the moment.
Vegas got up and left.
Because this had to mean something more, if Vegas had risked his life to come out of hiding, just so he could say he was sorry, to Pete.
He left Pete reeling from everything. Left him wondering if he’d just imagined the whole thing. Left him wishing his legs didn’t feel like jelly. Because, if he could walk, Pete knew he’d be running after Vegas.
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Because I'm Simp for Sapnap and this idea mad me smile~~
It had only been four months since you started streaming, as a faceless Streamer, and you mostly played Minecraft. Having your roommates join every so often, and even playing a few bed wars. It was fun doing your best to live your dream as a streamer until one day something changed. Getting one to play a few rounds of bed wars you quickly notice your teammate was wearing Sapnap's skin. Silently apologizing for not being so great at the game the two of you played quiet a few rounds. Talking through in-game chat the two of you finally shared discord names. That's all it took for you to realize you were in fact gaming with Sapnap. Nervously but happily you greeted him through voice chat unable to take the smile ofd your lips. There were times throughout the next few weeks that you could hear Dream in the background, which you would say hey. It was late and Sapnap had just finished a long stream, his voice sounding tired. "It was fun though, I wish you couldn't joined me." He said leaning back in his chair a bit. Offering a small laugh you told him that he looked as tired and he sounded. "I noticed something Sap, I know what you look like but you don't know what I look like." You said with a laugh lightly fixing your hair. You planned on surprising him with a 'face reveal'. "(Username), you know you don't have to do that. I know you aren't showing your face for a reason, so don't worry to much about it." Sapnap said with a chuckle, his cam still on showing him leaning back with his eyes closed. Now would be perfect. Anxiously you made sure you hair wasn't a mess, his black beanie with his flame logo. Lightly pulling his red 'Sapnap' hoodie down a bit and his bracelets on you wrist. You were a fan, of course, but letting him see you was more nerve wracking than letting him know you were a fan. Gently grabbing your small panda plushie you held it close, it easing your nerves a bit."Sapnap?" You asked after turning on your cam for him to see you. "Yeah?" He questioned back lifting his head to look at his screen. His eyes widen when he took in your appearance before a smile found its way to his lips. "You look great in my merch for starters, but you are also stunning. Why don't you have your cam on more often??" He questioned now sitting up more, his eyes locking with the panda plushie making him smile more. "I um, I'm just not very confident in my appearance, which is why I blur my face in every photo." You explain with a nervous laugh. It isn't long before that he has you feeling relaxed again laughing with him while he takes in your features. You were more than stunning to him and how you didn't see it know that bugged him. Making a silent promise to show you just how beautiful you were to him, he made a suggestion of you visit him and Dream. "He and I already talked about it, we want to invite you to visit with us for about a week. We'll pay for everything so you don't have to worry about that." Sapnap explained watching as you eyes widen and tears lightly making their way to them. "Please you don't have to do that! Don't spend money on me, either of you!" You rushed out. Dream took that exact moment to open the door and call out that it was to late he already bought you a ticket and Sap had found you a hotel room not far from where they lived for you to stay in. And even though you couldn't see Dream you could here the smile in his tones making the instead happy tears come rushing now. With a sobbing cry you thanked them and promised you would pay them back even if they didn't want you too.
❤️🔥
PLEASE I'M SUCH A SIMP FOR THIS BOY.
you give me such good things ❤🔥 I'm fucking honored. please, listen to the song Sunkissed by Khai Dreams and just think about waking up next to Sapnap, soft Florida mornings.
I'm so soft for him 😩
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Their Doll 8
Let me in
B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader
series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.
Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing
Chapter Summary: y/n gets emotional
Warnings: swearing, feelings
A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Life at the tower was...tiring, to say the least. During my free time I often found myself in the gym, lobbing knives at a target and trying my hardest not to biting one in Steve's chest every time he would correct my technique. When I wasn't trying to murder the avenger in cold blood, I was usually dragged into things by the other: briefings and debriefing for missions I'd never go on, my dad's parties, group training sessions and study periods with Bruce in his labs to name a few.
But for now, I was huddled in my rooms - fresh out of a hot shower after a brutal two hour training session and four mile run with Natasha - curled up on my bed and attempting to catch up on a few of the films I'd missed. But the exhaustion and drowsiness clouded my eyes, the noise from the TV merely in the background as I felt my eyes growing heavier by the second.
A sharp knock at the door snapped my out of my lowsey state, the people movie across the screen simple a blur of colour as my eyes darted past the tv and over to the door.
"Mr Stark is waiting at your door. Would you like me to let him in?" FRIDAY's evenly calm voice chimed, making me groan and mumble a 'no' into my pillows. The last person I wanted to see right now was my dad.
"Come on kid, let me in." My dad called from the other side of the door, and I could practically hear him roll his eyes and shake his head when I stayed silent. When he spoke again, it wasn't directed at me. "FRIDAY, override command and open the door."
"Wait! That's hardly fair!" I whined like a five year old, groaning again when the door swung open and my dad stood on the other side, quite clearly just as exhausted as I was.
"Get used to it, kiddo. Life isn't fair." Tony chided, walking over to my bed. I tried to shuffle away slightly when I felt the bed dip, my dad perching on the edge as his eyes scanned over the room. "I see you haven't decorated yet." He commented casually, as if nothing had ever happened between us.
"Yeah, well, I thought It'd be a shame to spend so much time on something when you're probably waiting to kick me out anyway." I mumbled, refusing to look at him.
"What the hell is wrong with you, y/n? Ever since you got back you've been-"
"Acting different?" I cut in, and when Tony simply swallowed thickly I nodded. "Funny that, seeing as I was kidnapped and tortured for three years. Not to mention made to kill people for another year after that."
"Y/n I'm sorry..."
"But you're not! You can't be, otherwise you'd actually have tried to save me, rather than leaving me to rot!" My voice cracked, tears pricked at my eyes and I now sat up straight in my bed, facing my dad but not looking him in the eye. "And you can't change that, you can't go back in the past and fix your mistake. And trying to fix it now sure as hell won't work, so I suggest you leave before I'm tempted to use you as my target for my training session tomorrow." I raised my voice, eyes now keeping his captive as the tears rolled freely down my cheeks.
"Oh, kid, they broke you." Tony murmured, cupping my cheek with his hand, eyes swimming with sorrow. Sorrow that I didn't want.
"You can't fix me either, because I'm not broken!" I said harsher now, voice only getting louder. "I don't need to be fixed..." I trailed off, voice barely above a whisper Joe as my eyes broke the contact, averting to my lap as the tears dropped onto the bed sheets.
That's how I found myself in my fathers arms, face pressed against his shoulder as the sobs made my body shake, hiccups escaping me as I tried to speak.
"A-all I needed W-was my D-dad, and yo- you took him f-from me!" I wailed, hands clutching my dad's shirt and his arms wrapped protectively around my shoulder, hands rubbing circles over my back soothingly.
"I know, kiddo. I'm sorry."
...
"Who is that?" Clint frowned, staring at the pictures scattered over the table in front of Natasha and Steve as they studied them deeply, brows creased in thought.
"Our newest pain in the ass." Tony answered for them, slapping a thick folder down in front of Clint as he said so. The marksman was quick to pick it up, flicking through the documents, news stories and information sheets greedily.
"The...winter soldier?" He asked, looking at the three superheroes in front of him as if they'd gone mad. "But he's a ghost story!"
"I've seen him. Been shot by him, actually." Nat said, an sadistically proud smirk forming on her lips with her last words, almost as if it were an achievement.
"We're trying to find out more about him, maybe that way we can beat him." Steve explained, sitting back in his chair with crossed arms as he huffed in defeat, sick to death with staring at the same five pictures all morning.
Y/n walked in, a skip in her step as she crossed the room to Tony.
"Morning, dad." She greeted, placing a quick kiss to his cheek and heading over to the cupboard to grab a mug. Clint and Natasha frowned in confusion, looking between the two as if they'd witnessed pigs fly.
Tony shrugged, y/n too preoccupied with making herself a coffee to notice the avengers' reactions. When her coffee was done, y/n swiped her mug from under the machine and sipped happily, letting out a content sigh before wandering over to stand behind Natasha.
"What are you working on?" She asked, peering over the spy's shoulder to get a glimpse of the pictures.
A loud smash crashed through the room, Tony's eyes widening in shock and Natasha jumping from her seat in order to not get covered in spilt coffee. Y/n stood paralysed, eyes never leaving the photo in front of her as she started at the Soldier. Steve frowned deeply, studying the girl as her eyes glossed over with with what seemed to be...sadness.
Clint was already at her side, a comforting hand on her shoulder as they all asked y/n what had happened and if she was alright. It was like a constant ringing in her ear interrupted their words before they reached her ears, and y/n suddenly felt nauseous as she starred at the bright red star on the soldier's arm, his long and messy dark hair shrouding his face and his leather clad, muscular body. Only his cerulean blue eyes could be seen, the rest of his face covered in a black mask she didn't usually see him in.
"I-I need some air." She stuttered, stumbling blindly out of the room and down the stairs, tipping over a few steps from the bottom and tumbling down the last few. She quickly pulled herself to her feet, hearing still ringing and vision offset, hazy, as she scrambled for the double glass doors. Luckily they already stood open, so she flew through them and out into the busy streets of New York.
Y/n found herself colliding will someone almost instantly, angry shouts of 'hey, watch it!' And 'look where the fuck you're going, kid!' Being called after her like a chorus as she pushed through the bustling people.
She finally stopped, dropping to her knees and simply staring straight ahead, no intended subject in her line of vision as she tried to comprehend the-the grief, at seeing the a soldier's face again.
It had only been two weeks, and yet two weeks without him, his touch, his scent - it felt like an eternity to y/n now. She hasn't registered what her feeling meant for him before, liking him beyond a source of comfort had just felt...wrong, after all he'd done, and yet y/n couldn't deny it.
She was in love with the Winter Soldier, and she didn't even know his name.
...
I wasn't aware of when someone had found me, nor of how they got me back to the tower or even how I was now stood staring blankly out of the window that stood next to my bed. I gazed longingly, almost as if I stared long enough, hard enough, he'd appear.
But of course he wouldn't, he was probably half way across the world, knowing HYDRA. A soft knock on my door and my head was turning, facing my visitor with a look of pure grief and want. Desperate, unhinged want that could eat you up from inside out and you'd still feel it.
"Hey, y/n. Can I talk to you for a moment?" Nat asked tentatively, clearing trying to to disturb my shaken up state. I nodded, offering a small smile which she returned as I now faced her. She walked up to me, talking my hands him hers and playing with the as she spoke, eyes kind and full of understanding.
"There's a mission, and we want you to go." She said calmly, almost as if the mere thought of it would send me into some kind of heart attack.
"Okay," I begun, eyes flitting down to the floor before back up again. "What is it? Aren't you scared that I'm still HYDRA and all I'd do is stab someone in the back?"
"Not exactly." Nat informed me with a smile, amusement glinting in her eyes at my assumption. "For starters, we all trust you, well maybe not steve - but everyone else does." Nat and I both laughed slightly. "And I think you wouldn't have it any other way it to go on the mission yourself." Nat finished.
"How come?" I asked, brow raised.
"There's been a lead..." she started. "On the winter soldier. We thought you might want to help check it out, possibly capture him. Your powers may be the best chance we have a detaining someone as strong as him." Nat spoke. "And if we can detain him.."
"We can save him." I finished.
"Exactly."
#smut#image#images#captain america fanfiction#captain america#winter soldier#winter solider fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky x you#bucky Barnes image#bucky Barnes smut#bucky Barnes x reader#bucky Barnes x you#steve rogers image#steve rogers x reader#steve x bucky#steve roger fanfic#steve Rogers#steve rogers smut#chris evans#chris evans smut#seb stan#sebastian stan#sebastian stan smut#marvel fanfic#marvel smut#marvel#avengers#natasha romanoff
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Prompt#21- Coming home with a huge wound but refusing to go to the hospital
Pairing - Drarry
Warning: Contains Mature Content - swearing, blood ( it's not much graphic)
Background- Drarry have been together for eight years now. They live at the Grimmauld Place. Harry is a Senior Auror while Draco is a potions master.
..........................................
Upon hearing the door close, rather slowly than normally. Harry had a habit of almost smashing the door into a million pieces whenever he had a shitty day at the Ministry which was everyday to be honest. He felt uneasy as he rushed down the stairs towards the door, trying not to hurry as much as possible which wasn't a lot to be completely honest.
Harry was standing at the threshold, with an ashen face trying to open his red and black Auror coat with his left hand, when Draco descended the stairs. He immediately stopped and looked into the blond's eyes. Draco saw it immediately, something was amiss, something had happened to his Harry. Although he was afraid to ask, he still did in a bare whisper.
"It's nothing honestly." Harry tried to be nonchalant about it and shrugged, wincing horribly.
"Show me." He demanded. Harry looked at him with a blank face and asked what he was on about. Draco went forward and slowly opened the coat only to find the right arm drenched in a liquid which turned out to be blood. Harry's arm sported a huge wound which was still bleeding. The wound stretched from his elbow almost to his wrist. He dragged his gaze away from the wound and towards his fiancé who was smiling sheepishly at him, making Draco more angry than concerned.
"What on earth are you doing here and not at Mungo's, Potter? Care to explain because I just can't see it myself?" He said in a low voice, reminding himself that it wouldn't do good to yell at Harry now. But that bloody git always did this, no matter the situation he would come home rather than going to the healers. Most times either it was a small wound or he would be completely knocked out which meant he would be dragged to Mungo's by one of his team or Draco would heal him. He had no idea how the prat talked out of going there.
Where the fuck was Weasley?!?!
"Well it isn't that big and you know I don't like going there. The people still look at me like I'm a different species or something and I fucking hate that. And that isn't something a good Episkey can't fix." He smiled widely at Draco, while he tried to lift his hand, grimacing badly.
"Stop doing that and stop being such a stubborn prat all the time. Now come on, in, let's see what I can do." They directly went to the washroom where he immediately instructed Harry to sit down in the tub and not move. He then proceeded to remove his shirt with a wave of his wand and filled a bowl with water, warming it with a charm and sat down on a stool next to the tub, looking dubiously at the wound. He still felt that he should take Harry to Mungo's but he knew it would be an fruitless attempt.
"One of these days, Harry, you'll give me a heart attack if you just keep getting yourself injured liked this again and again," he took a deep breath trying to calm himself down, it didn't help much. "I love you, I can't lose you tho one of your stupid Auror Missions." He started cleaning the wound with a soft cloth, watching the water turn a darker shade of pink as he dipped the cloth again and again.
"I'm sorry, I'll try to be better, I promise. No more injuries." Harry said but they both knew that it was a lie, he didn't feel like calling him out on it now, so he just kept cleaning the wound.
He summoned a wound cleaning potion next, glaring at his fiancé who hissed when he pressed the second cloth to the wound. He hated seeing Harry like this, it made his heart ache but he couldn't find it in himself to ask him to give up being an Auror or take up the Head Auror position that he had been which would mean next to no fieldwork for him. But he knew that Harry wouldn't be happy, he loved the thrill which came from being on the field even if it meant getting seriously injured at times. It kept him awake at nights, not knowing if his Harry would return or not. He had tried doing anything and everything to keep him distracted when Harry was gone for a day or for weeks at a stretch but nothing ever helped.
If Ron had gone with him, he felt a bit relieved and he asked Hermione to come over, together it was easier to endure. He knew that for Harry, his Auror job was quite important, it made him less guilty about how he couldn't have saved his loved ones in the war but he was saving others loved ones. But still it was times like this that made Draco hate Harry's job even more, he resented it. He couldn't make Harry understand that while he was trying to save others' loved ones, Draco's was at a huge risk. To Harry, his life had almost no value, he would give it up in an instant if it meant someone else's good. He knew that but still........
"Draco...." Harry whispered but he refused to look at him, continuity to treat the wound.
"Draco...." Harry called again and he reluctantly looked up at his blurred figured and realized that he had tears in his eyes.
Harry brought up his good arm to cup his face gently, and wipe the year which escaped from his eye. He leaned into the touch, tilting his face slightly to kiss the hand before returning to the task at hand.
It took a couple of more minutes before the wound was completely cleaned and sealed with a careful Episkey. He ran his hand across the newly healed arm, trying to calm his own self.
"Babe......look at me please." Harry pleaded.
He looked up, directly into his emerald eyes, which were filled with sorrow and concern. "It's nothing, love. There's nothing you can't heal. I'm perfectly fine, don't cry please." His words were a balm, which Draco refused to take.
"It could have been, Harry. What if I can't do anything and it gets too late. You are no longer doing this, Harry James Potter. From this moment onwards you'll be going directly to the hospital, I don't care that you hate that place. You'll do it for me, and without complain. Am I clear?" He tried to keep his voice firm but it wavered at the end.
If nothing else, it was better than asking him to quit for long. It would keep him sane for the time being, knowing Harry would be in the best hands.
"Crystal, I would go directly go there and send for you as well because I'm not going to be there alone, even for a short period of time. Now come here." Harry said as he opened his arms and Draco went into his arms without a moment's hesitation.
He hugged him tightly for a moment, putting his head on his solid chest, hearing his heart beat strongly against his ear. Harry took his face in his hands after a while and gave him a slow kiss, trying to rely what he couldn't in words. Draco returned it with much more force, putting all his worry and concern into it, lavishing the feel of Harry infront of him.
It didn't do anything other than lessen his worries a bit and for now that was enough for him.
#drarry#harry x draco#draco malfoy#harry potter#auror harry#injured#engaged#ron wealsey#hermione granger#headcanon
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A Harvest
The golden wheat leaves intertwine with Steve's long brown hair and it's like he's mixing with nature. Even the sun has kissed his hair like a blessing he carries during the summer and the red tablecloth contrasts with him, brings out the red of his lips where Billy helplessly kissed until it hurt.
His big eyes shine like polished amber, tears in the corners brought by pleasure, where Billy brought him close so close, because he's savoring this moment, knows how to make something last since he rarely gets keep it.
Steve looks like some kind of nymph, flushed and sweaty. Almost ethereal. Pale skin at home amidst the yellow of the wheat field. Maybe like a painting of a god of harvest, full of life, naked and ready. An offering for Billy to take.
This entire day feels like a dream. Vivid, too saturated. Slow and too fast at the same time. A second blurred into hours and suddenly the sun is high in the sky.
Summer brought the colors winter had been hiding under a veil of grey. Even the bags under Steve's eyes are gone, his collarbone less sharp and the fear he hides like an expert diluted.
Now Billy Hargrove can see.
The blue of his Camaro, driving the morning away with the sound of electric guitars. Smacking Steve's hand away from the radio and fighting against the smile that wanted to burst at Steve's annoyed face. Yeah I heard this song fourteen times you need to change it now or I swear, Hargrove.
The red of the tablecloth he laid on the ground, it's dumb but even if he had the house for himself it didn't felt safe. So he prepared some stuff it's a picnic, Harrington not Rocket science, everyone knows how to make sandwiches.
The yellow that hides them, you said to pick a secure place, other than my house. This is it. Besides I like it here Billy, there's something about fields that feels like nobody could ever find you if you stayed quiet long enough.
The white plump clouds that watch from above, reflecting in Steve's eyes. What? It's not gonna rain. I don't smell it- what, did you fart? Okay! Steve- stop hitting me. I get it you can smell the rain, whatever.
Billy fixes Steve's hair back and flicks a fallen spike away.
Wants desperately for this summer to last forever.
"Billy?" Steve says and his hand reaches for his cheek and continues until his fingers find the hair tie- the one Billy stole from Maxine because his hair is too long because-
"Did I mention I love your hair like this?" Steve breathes between them, a smile pulling on his lips. Steve tugs on the hair tie and a waterfall of blond curls spill from it.
"You look like a god. Like Thor." Billy lets out a surprised laugh.
"What? You do! All tan skin and spun gold hair." then he closes his mouth. Eyes hunted like he said something he shouldn't have.
Billy says "No, no. Please, I wanna hear the rest." tone mocking but with an honest expression, surprised that they both were thinking the same.
When Steve studies his face for a second, mollified he continues with the mood "Your eyes look electric, pretty. And, I don't know like there's a storm inside you."
A strong wind blows his hair and then he can smell the rain strong and moist. Steve was right it's gonna rain. The wheat stalks move in waves but Steve only looks to the side, up at the sky, the cord of muscle on his neck stretches. The sunlight disappears from Steve's skin.
There's no sound except for the wind that makes the entire field dance. And the sky that's getting darker.
The first droplets start to fall on his back, it's hot and humid so the cold feels refreshing. A fat drop falls on Steve's eye and he wipes it with a mutter.
Steve looks back distracted at Billy whose smile is wide, bashful when he realizes Billy can't stop staring. "What?" Steve says and leaves a kiss on Billy's top lip.
"Nothing." Billy sits back and lets him steal another kiss from his mouth. Steve makes himself a place in his lap a confident tilt over his mouth and he leaves little pecks all over Billy's face. Charming and sweet, a fucking heartthrob.
Billy can't explain this moment, with Steve in his arms and the rain that steadily pours down on them. Barely chasing the heat away. Washing away the sweat and filth of fooling around in the dirt.
His hands move everywhere on wet skin and then Steve is guiding him back inside and Billy can only grunt and scrunch his eyebrows, lost, surprised at the feeling. Like he forgot where he was for a split second. Tries not to get pulled from this to reality.
He wants to see it. Wants to record every breath and every little sound but the rain makes it impossible, he closes his eyes feels the weight of the raindrops on his eyelashes. Feels Steve's heart beating like a drum under his fingertips. Billy maps the feel of Steve's hands on his muscles and tastes water on Steve's skin, every inch he mouths burns.
Then all he can hear is the rain and his name being whispered like it means something Billy Billy Billy hushed and hurried and it's something other, like a spell. Billy slicks the wet mess of Steve's hair back with both hands looks at him in the blurred background, frames his face in his hands and kisses him because how can he not? When he looks incredible like this.
Getting lost even deeper in the kiss. A feeling like despair crawls like poison in his heart.
Maybe the gods will take pity on him and grant him this.
#harringrove#my words#summer#billy is being a drama queen#don't fret#they'll be together forever#but u know im all about that sweet angst#anyway hot shit#the original title was a harvest in my pants but we try to be poetic here#my stuff
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