#holds my wires angrily

[keferon]

Prowl doodles but I used my little toy that stands on my desk and holds my things as a reference lol

[lenoraslament]

Either it's just pure fluff where y/n makes fun of Theo for sounding like mario when he speaks Italian and it's this cute moment or y/n can make fun of Theo for sounding like mario when he speaks Italian and he fuck her brainless because of her "disrespect"

Oh my god this request made me laugh so much I had to do it. Mixture of smut and comedy. Which let’s be honest is my favorite thing to write.

Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), degradation, rough sex, piv, comedy

“It’s a me! Marioooo!” You do your best impression of Mario with a thick Italian accent. Theo’s dark eyes glare at you as his mouth hangs open.

“What the fuck was that?” He asks impatiently and clearly not amused

“You know,” you say giggling nervously, “Mario brothers….Mario…plumber”

Theo’s face is rife with disgust and confusion. You try to explain but he holds his hand up silencing you as he left.

“She called me a plumber,” Theo said to Mattheo as they both smoked in the courtyard. Mattheo took a drag and tilted his head.

“Are you sure man? A plumber?” Mattheo asked shifting in the cold biting air.

“Some Mario plumber,” Theo said angrily.

Mattheo nearly doubled over laughing. He dropped his cigarette and had his hands on his knees as Theo watched offended.

“You know this plumber too!?!” Theo asked in outrage. He held up his hands as if cursing the entire world for his own confusion.

Mattheo wipes tears off his cheeks as he pulls out his phone to show Theo. Theo watches a video of the game and a clip of Mario talking.

“Ah man, your girlfriend is hilarious” he said grinning but Theo is already pitching his cigarette onto the ground. He storms off to go find you as Mattheo pulls out his phone to text.

Theo stumbles into the common room. Pansy and Enzo are sitting, laughing at something Enzo is reading on his phone

“Have you seen Y/N!?” Theo asked in an exasperated tone.

“Maybe your princess is in another castle,” Enzo said as he and Pansy burst out into hysterical laughter.

Theo’s jaw is nearly wired shut in anger as he stomps towards your dorm.

“Why did you compare me to some stupid cartoon man?!?” Theo burst into your room as your mouth hung open.

“Baby it was just…” you wanted to say ‘a joke’ but he cut you off. His mouth pushes against yours in a punishing kiss. You moaned in surprise as he knocked you over onto the bed.

His hands were eager, pushing up your skirt. Pulling down your panties, ripping off your bra as if he had something to prove. It wasn’t until he plunged his fingers deep inside you that he finally spoke.

“So disrespectful,” he muttered in your ear as his thumb swirled around against your clit making you gasp. Roughly, he curled his fingers rocking his entire arm making your mouth drop open. The two fingers punched at that spongy spot over and over until your back arched. Soft gasps turning into breathy moans and you felt a flood of pleasure snap in you. Before your body can stop reeling, you hear the zip of his pants eagerly being shed. Your eyes are still screwed shut, his hands wrap around your ankles dragging you to him across the bed as you pant.

“Baby…,”you mutter breathlessly, but his fingers plunge into your mouth. You gag softly as your eyes widen in surprise.

“So fucking disrespectful bella” he says as he pushes his index finger down on your tongue. You feel thick saliva choking you, you swallow and whine, “I have a better use for that mouth” he mutters in a low voice.

Even as he wraps his hand around your throat to guide it to his cock you can’t help but feel a buzz of excitement. The heat between your thighs is undeniable even as he thrusts into your mouth making you blink back tears. He notices the arch in your back as he fucks your pretty lips.

“That’s better,” he mutters as he leans over to grab a handful of your ass greedily. Feeling the vibration of your whimpers and moans on his cock leaves him feral. His finger grip your jaw as he shoves himself in one last time before shoving you back onto the bed.

His eyes are darkened but a cocky smirk remains. The half lidded daze he’s left you in spurs him on as he crawls over to you. Pressing his hands into the back of your thighs he hovers overs your pussy sliding his cock over your slick.

Achingly slow he pumps in making your eyes roll back, groaning at the sight of your mouth slack and panting. His pace quickens and you cry out his name as he mutters curses

“So fucking tight for me, I’m going to stretch you out so good,” his voice is laced with frustration and pleasure, “bad fucking girl”. As you throw back your head and moan loudly, it dawns on you that you should piss him off more often. Your hips tremble as your body tenses, the ragged breath escaping your mouth cuts through your symphony of whines.

He fucks you through your orgasm with a vengeance. You’re in heaven when his hands lace through your hair and tug your head to look at him.

“Still think I’m some stupid Mario plumber?” He asks with a sneer that somehow only makes you want him more.

Between breathy sighs you grin at him.

“No. You’re much too tall,” you say mockingly, “you’re more like Luigi”.

His mouth drops into an offended scoff but he only rolls you over so you can get on your knees.

It’s going to be a long night for you now.

[deadghosy]

I love your work so much imagine ben Drowned in hasbin hotel.

Them crawling out of the TV and alistor is like I don't like tv but can you mess with vox😭.

SURE!! LOL! 🦆💗If anyone wants to do a creepypasta! Reader, I will make it a fanon version cause that’s most easier since I’ve always seen the fanon side of creepypasta when I was into the fandom💗

HAZBIN HOTEL X BEN DROWNED! READER

prompt: after jumping into a tv to hide from being stabbed by Jeff…you accidentally went into a show called HAZBIN HOTEL……

Your dumbass didn’t even check what was on tv…it was just left on as you are now falling to a city in a shape of a…..pentagram?

Welll shit…you are in a hell cartoon…

Meanwhile with Jeff: “where the fuck is that short tacked bitch…” he said holding his knife tightly as his eyes glanced at the tv. “That bastard!”

MEANWHILE WITH YOU: You pointed to a service pole and started to surge through the electrical wire into some random old tv box. You pressed your hand through the tv screen and came out of it. As you came out of it a gasp was heard to see a bunch of characters…..oh boy…

After basically getting chased around the hotel and interrogated…they let you stay by Charlie’s words as she was excited to have another member to her crew at last. 

Few weeks later, they have gotten use to you. I mean Alastor still keeps an eye on you as you play games and go through electronics around the place.

Angel thinks it’s funny for you to hack Valentino’s page to make his bio say “I have a small dick.”

Vaggie makes you go out on errands until she can find you a decent duty at least. But she appreciates how you help around a lot.

Husk thinks your pretty annoying because of your gen z & gen alpha humor. I headcannon ben and you to basically be a media specialist to learn the lingo around and to understand the generation.

“Hey husk…” “hey kid…” “you’re so not alpha male…” “…the fuck?” “Sooo not slay.” “Get the fuck out my face.” *cue you doing a gremlin ass laugh*

I can see Velvette making fun of you for wearing the link fit😭 she would be confused as if you were a stinky cosplayer kid-

“GOOD HELL?! What are you wearing dear..” the female vee says as you look down to your link outfit. “What’s wrong with it? I think I look ✨f a b u l o u s✨” you said with sass

“You look horrendous. THAT’S what you look like.” Velvette says. You rolled your eyes as she snapped her fingers giving you black converses, tan brown pants, and a green hoodie. She had let you keep your link hat as you actually liked how you looked.

Maybe when you get back to slender’s mansion you can spend his card to buy an outfit like this.

I imagine Charlie or niffty trying to wipe off the blood tears of your eyes thinking you were crying as you stand there like “what is going on-🤨” most definitely the face look like this “:T”

Angel dust brought you a gaming set from a thrift shop as you smiled happily at this and started to play….only to find out it had knock off versions of the games in the human world….impta?! (GTA) PENTACRAFT?! (Minecraft) hellmon?? (Pokémon)

You immediately thrown the gaming set outside and decided to go hack Vox’s system for fun again.

I can imagine reader sending random “if you don’t like this, Lucifer is coming for you.” posts to random sinner to fuck with them.

I can DEFINITELY see Alastor asking you to go mess with Vox’s tech even if he doesn’t like those picture boxes. “Ben/Reader, my fine fellow..I got a favor to ask of you.” After he asked you to go mess with this dude named Vox. You smiled as you transported into your own tv and go to the vee tower.

You hacked into Vox’s system as he spit his coffee out to see “nya cat” on all his computers and devices as you snicker seeing Vox’s face trying to fix it. You laughed showing yourself as your bloody tears roll down your face because of laughing. “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” Vox asked angrily

“IM YOU! BUT BETTER! GET HACKED LOSER!” You said before disappearing from his system as Vox claws his desk in anger.

Alastor had a good chuckle when you told him what you did. “I never liked this picture boxes…but you my friend, are true entertainment.” After this your relationship with Alastor grew as he would pay you handsomely with snacks as you go and piss Vox off on any other day.

Valentino and Vox hate your guys to the point they want to kill you while Velvette is just chill with you as she helps you with your outfits and aesthetics.

I imagine since Ben drowned also looks like link, you have long hair like link but sometimes cut it down to bit length to not trip on it.

You give off that “new worker at McDonald’s” vibes as you would just play around instead of helping the residents😭

“Can I have keycard?” “….how about no?”

I imagine you just tapping on and off a lamp post boredly as Valentino keeps going towards it and away from. “On….off…on…off…” you liked to mess with people

You had tapped on sir Pentious’s device once and it exploded…yeah you were pretty much banned from his room and lab. But it was worth it.

You definitely wrestle with husk as husk will just try to claw out your eyes only him to just get pepper sprayed by you.

“AGG MY FUCKIN' EYES!!” “I didn’t know this shit would work on demons..”

Lucifer was definitely intrigued with your appearance as you seemed like a human. But also had a demonic appearance. So he questioned you and you just kept saying “SWAG!” He got tired of it and demanded you as the ruler of hell.

It didn’t work as you just shrug with a “:D” face and transported into a wire. Lucifer was bamboozled as he just stood there like “what just happened”

You showed niffty how to beat any person during a game as you, yourself is a hacker and can beat any game personally.

You looked at the phone that you stole from that flat faced dude as you smirked having an idea as you transported into the phone to try and go find Jeff. And lucky you did as he was sitting on the couch watching wrestling.

“Heyyy buddy.” You said looking through the tv to see Jeff. He scoffed seeing that his favorite program was ruined by your face. Jeff turned off the tv. Your face was like a pikachu shocked face. “THAT BITC-”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

What if MC was sent to an alternate dimension somehow and that dimension contained all 7 overblots who woke up there after they were defeated in main story. How would they react to the magicless prefect who managed to defeat them suddenly showing up out of nowhere?

Overblot Universe | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Imagine a trip through the mirror portal gone wrong

Ending up in this other place where it looks like an ink covered version of Night Raven

Reminding you of your dear friends’ overblots 

You hesitate to call out for help of any kind

Instead your greeted immediately by an army of ink blotted students marching towards you quickly

A single soldier steps to the front bearing a gaudy but familiar collar 

“The Queen of Hearts demands you return to his side at once!” 

Before you can say anything, another voice rings out

“Our Sultan demands the magicless one.”

This one has a smaller group but they are much more heavily armed

It leads to a brawl which you are uncomfortably at the center of

Escaping from the warring factions, you make your way to the school’s mirror room

Barely able to step on the premises you’re stopped by a small patch of sand sucking you into the ground

The only one you can think that’d use this is–

“Thought I smelled a troublesome herbivore.”

It’s Leona in all his overblotted glory

Snickering with a fanged smile he grabs you by the arm

Easily yanking you out of the sand and holding you against his chest

Still standing above the quicksand you hold on tight

You’re surprised when he almost lovingly rubs his cheeks against your own trailing down your neck with his nose

Then without warning he takes a deep bite into the crook of your neck

Holding you still as you try to shove him away

When he pulls back with blood on his smile, you can only look at him with betrayal

“What? You think I’d be gentle after you chased me away? Not this time sweet heart.”

He tosses you over his shoulder as he walks further away from the building you want to go 

Taking you to an inky territory that looks as though Savvannaclaw turned into some rocky mound in the dessert

With too much ease he tosses you into a scratchy pile of sand 

He plops down practically on top of you

“Ow! This is really uncomfy how do you sleep on this?!”

“Don’t whine. Now that you’re here it’ll be a lot softer.”

Too fast and so familiar to your Leona he falls asleep

Anytime you move a centimeter the sand whips angrily around keeping you in his vicinity

But it seems the only time it didn’t react was when a drone with a bucket of water dunked on the sand rising to swat at it

The damp sand could only bubble slowly as the drone came closer to you shooting some small metal thing on your reaching hand

“NO!--” 

The ugly snarl from the overblotted Leona dissipates as a flash of blue and black transports you someplace else

“There they are brother! You’re player 2! I told you they’d be here for the special day!”

You want to voice your confusion as you blink your blurry sight into something sharp

But something's over your mouth

And your hands and your legs

Looking around you are in what looks like a cave lined with wires and technology baring an uncanny resemblance to a friend of yours

“You were right all along brother! Let’s prepare for the final act!” 

It’s an overblotted Idia taking a heavy looking crown from the claws of some nearby machinery

Stopping to admire you, his cold clawed hands run along your face as if checking if your real

Before placing the crown on your head

The minute the device is settled how he likes it tightens on your head

Bringing a numbing pain to the sides of your skull as you desperately try to wiggle free

Nothing you do stops the inky creation that looks like Ortho manipulate your binds to stand you upright

Bringing you to an alter, it’s there you notice the swirling abyss just pass the electronic officiant

“Now say your vows, my fruit.”

“Of course my precious future husband, master of the underworld and overworld. For years–”

It’s your voice but not 

With a tinge of automation your voice chimes happily from the restraint over your mouth

At your not–real—vows Idia seems to giggle causing the abyss to widen and the suction intensify

Eventually ‘your vows’ end and Idia claims he’s going to skip his

Letting his robotic officiant carry through like a typical ceremony

Until it gets to that part

“I’d be wrong not to speak my peace when both parties so clearly have withstanding debts with me.”

Part 2

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 ꒱ 박성훈

summary : you and your boyfriend were too much alike in a lot of aspects, especially stubbornness

genre : angst, suggestive, sunghoon x afab!reader, drabble tws : language, suggestive content, arguments author notes : this ones for my wife xx word count : 0.6k

"sunghoon," your thumb and index finger pressed to the bridge of your nose in an attempt to ease the tension coursing through you. "you're not listening right now."

truthfully, neither one of you wanted to hear the other out—and that's resulted in an argument. one that seems like it won't fizzle out no matter how much the two of you raise your voice.

you both had too much pride to give the other the last word. you were too much alike; your friends and family only confirming your hard-headedness. but, you had to admit that he was pretty when he was mad.

"no, y/n," he laughed, humor twisted with frustration and disbelief. "you're not listening. i have to do this, it's not something i can just skip—believe me!"

you rolled your prettily-done eyes, which only furthered his annoyance, slumping into the wooden chair you paired with your pine table. "i don't care that you made other plans—we decided months ago. we have to go, sunghoon, we've already canceled... twice!"

"and now i'm saying that i can't go. you can go by yourself, can't you? it's not a big deal, is it?"

your mouth practically hit the floor at his audacity. "it is a big-fucking-deal, babe! i need you there, you know this!"

and despite being mad at each other, the love was still there. he drove you up a wall, but at the end of the day, there's no one else you'd rather have push your buttons. yes, it was a hostile environment right now, but it was bound to break; it always does.

"well, i can't go."

your head met your hand, elbow pressed to the table. "fuck," you were going around in circles, neither one willing to compromise. "sunghoon, how many times do i have to tell you that i don't care? you promised the last time we canceled that that would be the last time. so, you just lied to me?"

it seems like fuel to the fire was the only thing you both could throw at it, poisonous words with a twisted tongue. "oh my god, are you kidding me? you're really going to fucking hold that to me, baby?"

your eyes widened, hand hitting the wood with a smack. "well, when i promise you shit, i actually mean it. so, yeah, i'm going to hold it over your fucking head."

"we're getting nowhere." he stated the obvious, making you huff. "let's talk later."

he wasn't asking, but you honestly didn't have a care in the world for it; to you that was just as good as a suggestion. you got up, approaching him with a calm demeanor. you didn't want to back down, but you knew you'd be here for a lifetime if you didn't let the dust settle—even if only a little bit.

as you were passing, you mumbled out a defeated. "fine, hoon. do whatever you want."

you felt a firm grip on your wrist, him pulling so you'd face him again. and before you got the chance to angrily-question his intentions, his lips were pressed to yours, a firm, yet gentle, hold on your cheek.

you both felt the wire snap, your bodies relaxing into each other.

between alternating sides, he whispered a confession of love to you; reminding you that despite the attitude, he was made for you.

you pulled back momentarily, still prideful enough to not let him have the last word. "i'm still mad at you."

"you know i'll make it up to you, baby," he smiled, hoisting you onto the wooden surface carefully, and slotting between your parted knees. "i promise."

but he was just like you, wasn't he?

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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[jintaka-hane]

The Eagle and the Hummingbird

Masterlist

Img: Silver mechanical bird with blue crystals By Coolarts223

Summary: Kid likes you. And he's been wanting to give you a gift for a while now. The problem is, for all his mechanical know-how, he's got zero emotional intelligence. Word count: 1000

“Really? They can fly backwards?” Heat propped his elbows on the dining table, hanging on your every word.

“Yes, they’re the only ones who can,” there was a note of pride in your voice as you shared your knowledge with your crewmates. “When they’re done feeding, they fly backwards to get their long beak out of the flower.”

“Pff, a dumb thing that sucks on flowers,” Kid’s voice came with a scoff from his spot, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Yeah... it’s not a dumb thing, Kid. It’s a bird.”

You locked eyes with your captain for a moment, your frown lingering as you tried to suppress a smile. It was impossible for you to stay mad at him for long, especially when he crinkled his nose like that, giving him a look you’d describe as a disgruntled eagle.

“And that’s your favorite animal?” Killer was holding his glass with both hands, peering at you through the small holes in his mask.

“Yes! They’re amazing, only 5 cm long and they flap their wings between 50 and 80 times a second—”

“I wish I could move my hands that fast,” Heat said, lost in thought.

"So you could flap your 5 cm little bird?" Wire chimed in as he strolled into the mess hall.

There was a moment of silence before the men erupted into explosive, raucous roar.

Wire cracked up, nearly doubling over at his own joke; Kid slammed his hand on the doorframe, laughing so hard he almost fell over, and Killer wiped tears from his mask as he raised his beer to toast with Heat, who was trying to keep up with the chaotic cheer.

“You guys are hopeless,” you let out a frustrated sigh, giving Wire a playful nudge on the forearm. “I’m off to bed.”

As you made your way through the door, you had to maneuver around Kid, who stayed put, watching you leave with a peculiar glint in his eye.

“Good night, Cap’.”

******

The next morning, you had barely stepped into the galley for breakfast when the captain welcomed you by angrily tossing a small metal object in your direction.

"Take it," he snapped, his face twisted in a sulky pout.

“Wha–”, the object landed on your chest, and you quickly brought your hands up to catch it before it fell. As you looked at it, your eyes widened in surprise at the sight of one of the most finely crafted and beautiful mechanical pieces you’d ever seen. 

It was a tiny hummingbird made from pieces of iron and steel, with some parts joined by tiny screws and others carefully melted and welded together. It was incredibly light, standing on its own in the palm of your hand on two exquisitely thin legs with detailed toes and claws. The beak was perfectly polished, and a tail made of fine metal sheets, shaped like feathers, served to balance the weight backward.

Totally awestruck by the extraordinary craftsmanship, you glanced at Kid, who was intently watching your reaction from across the room with a scowl under his protective goggles.

“Kid… this—”

“It’s just some fucking crap I found the other day while cleaning up the workshop,” he cut you off bluntly, turning his back to you to pour himself a black coffee. “Ain’t got room to keep shit like that.”

You observed the beautiful mechanical bird, running your thumb over the delicate engravings on its metal surface.

“Whoa! No way!” Heat’s voice rang out as he walked into the room, rushing over to see what you were holding. With a look that silently asked for permission, he took the object from your hands and lifted it to eye level, scrutinizing it closely. “Is this... a hummingbird?!”

You nodded, unable to take your eyes off the small metal figure, and how Heat turned it around to get a better look.

“Does it flap its wings?”

“Of course it flaps its wings,” Kid snapped, immediately crossing the distance between you in just three strides. He snatched the hummingbird from Heat's hand and, with an unexpected gentleness, carefully placed it back in the palm of your hand. Then, he pressed a few tiny buttons, and you heard the soft click of gears syncing perfectly as the little bird gracefully unfurled its wings. Slowly, it began to flap, its speed increasing until the metal feathers blurred before your eyes.

"It beats its wings exactly 75 times per second," his painted lips stretched into a wide grin of pride as he heard you gasp in awe.

"Can you make it fly?"

The bird gracefully lifted off from the palm of your hand, hovering effortlessly in the air above before moving a short distance forward.

After a few seconds, its tiny wings rotated symmetrically, adjusting to the perfect angle to catch the air from front to back, and the bird flew backward.

"I can make anything out of metal fly," he chuckled at you, full of himself.

“Kid…” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you shifted your gaze from the hummingbird to the captain’s honey-colored eyes, “it’s perfect.”

“Yeah... whatever.” His heart swelled with an unexpected warmth as he watched your face light up with that adorable smile, but unsure of what to do with the feeling, his expression settled back into a sour pout. 

“A-anyway," he scratched his neck awkwardly, "I ain’t got time for this shit. It was just taking up space in the workshop, so I was gonna toss it. Keep it if you want... or throw it away, I don’t fucking care.”

At that moment, Killer walked in, his inscrutable gaze sweeping over the scene before landing on the extremely strong coffee the captain had poured for himself.

“Kid, how many hours of sleep did you get? It was 5 AM, and the workshop lights were still on.”

Kid shot him a murderous glance, his cheeks radiating warmth as they flushed a light pink.

“Huh? No, they weren’t–”

“Yes, they were. And I was starting to get worried with all those curses and banging and—”

“KIL, shut th—” Kid gritted his teeth in warning.

“—hammering at that hour.”

Heat and you exchanged glances before turning your attention to the captain, who was now burning as red as his tousled hair.

“Fuck, Kil!” he barked, trying not to meet your gaze. “WILL YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?!”

..............

Taglist: @fanaticsnail <3

[seat-safety-switch]

My cat is not enormously smart, nor is he particularly brave, but these simple flaws are outdone by the fact that he is also extremely disloyal. Lord Fluffbottoms, who we once believed was some kind of Norwegian Forest Cat but whose citizenship has since been contested by Norway, constantly pees all over my house whenever he gets the least bit upset. And, being dumb, he gets upset all the time.

Once, I watched him chase a fruit fly around my kitchen for over an hour. I cheered him on, although my enthusiasm began to wane after about fifteen minutes, in the same way that a parent eventually gets tired of watching their ambitious toddler repeatedly fall off a merry-go-round. Eventually, the fly got away. Escaped into some nether regions of my kitchen. Lord Fluffbottoms responded by angrily peeing on what he thought was my record collection, but was actually an empty Rubbermaid bin that I had surreptitiously filled to the brim with kitty litter. Got you, you little bastard.

I think he figured out that he had been tricked, because shortly after that he got out. It wasn't my fault: while I was at work, the city bylaw inspectors got the sheriff to cut through one of the grates holding the front door shut, and he snuck out and into the patrol car during all the commotion. If you ask me, he was probably trying to hot-wire the damn thing, but one thing led to another. Soon, I was requested to come and pick up my endlessly urinating cat from the pound, which I quickly did.

"He's such a gentleman," cooed the gentleman working the front desk. "He always wants to cuddle, and he uses the litter box perfectly."

"He uses the litter box?" I asked. "What kind of drugs did you put him on?"

It turns out that he had not, in fact, been on any drugs at all. Lord Fluffbottoms' endless ammonia-based aggression towards my life and property was just a thing he liked to do to show respect for the master of the house (technically, my landlord, but until they can procure a death certificate from whatever country his body washes up in, me.)

Still, I was beyond happy to have my special little buddy back in my life again. The field mice? Not so much, as in his absence they moved quickly into colonizing the various Plymouths dotted about the backyard. I ended up having to move what was left of my sopping-wet kitchen table out there in order to scare them back into the bushes. Lord Fluffbottoms watched the whole thing.

[purple-obsidian]

miscommunication; option 2 (18+, dick grayson x fem titan reader)

⭓ !PLEASE READ! this is part of a choose-your-ending story. it will not make sense unless you start from here.

"No! Dick, please!" You stand from your chair, cloth napkin falling to the floor, watching him stalk past you towards the exit of the restaurant, anxiety filling your stomach with dread. "You're not even going to let me explain?" You call after him, ignoring the weird looks you're getting from the other guests enjoying their food.

Not about to let him leave things like this, you rush after him, finding him waiting at the valet stand outside. "Dick! You're seriously going to just walk away like that? What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" He sounds taken aback, crossing his arms and glaring at you. "What about you? What's your problem, huh? You really think I would take you somewhere as nice as this, if all I wanted to do was get into your pants? You really think that low of me?"

A loud crash of thunder echoes against the tall buildings surrounding you, but neither of you pay any mind to it, even as a light drizzle of rain begins to fall. The valet, obviously uncomfortable with the exchange that's happening, slips away to retrieve Dick's car.

"No! That's not what I- I didn't even-"

"This was a mistake. I never should have asked you-"

"DICK GRAYSON!" You shout, unable to hold back your own anger now. "You are going to shut the fuck up and let me speak, or I swear I'll-"

"You'll what?" His tone is low, and he uncrosses his arms, hands clenched into fists at his side.

You close your mouth, seething in anger at being interrupted yet again. You feel the tears coming. You can't help it. You cry when you're angry. It's something you hate about yourself, and the last thing you want to do is cry in front of him. Luckily, the rain that's slowly starting to fall helps mask it just a little.

"I didn't realize this was a date!" You finally shout, hands shaking with how worked up he has you.

Dick scoffs, looking you up and down. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are trying to backpedal now, or something? I very clearly asked you out, we have the texts to prove it."

You take a deep breathe before speaking. "I thought you were asking me to work. You've done it before, haven't you? Just last month, you texted me, last minute, asking me to help you tail that arms dealer. I thought this was something like that."

Dick's angry expression morphs to one of confusion, now second-guessing himself. "Are you being for real?"

"Yes!"

More thunder. A loud clash, and the rainfall grows heavier, slowly soaking both of you as you glower angrily at one another.

Dick finally pulls you aside so you're both standing under the awning of the Italian restaurant, safe from the oncoming downpour. He feels something hard strapped to your upper arm when he does so. "What's this?" He asks, feeling the object through the wet fabric of your sweater.

"What do you think it is? A knife." You explain, hoping he's finally starting to believe you. "I told you. I thought this was Titan's business. You didn't tell me what we were getting into, so I came prepared." Shrugging away his hand, you reach down to pull the damp garment off over your head. You're left in just your tank top now, giving Dick full view of the weapons you had concealed, along with the comm wire you two and the other titans will wear on missions.

Any trace of anger left on his face is gone. He opens his mouth to speak, stammering a little. "You mean.. but I thought… my texts…" He looks mortified. Dick isn't a man that finds himself speechless very often, but now is one of those times.

A long exhale escapes your lips, releasing a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You glance around you, and wring out the excess water from your sweater a little before pulling it back over your head, not wanting your knives to draw too much attention. "Do you understand now? I fucked up, okay? I should have clarified with you, I misunderstood what you were asking me. That's my fault. But I did not agree to this with the intention of fucking you all night. I promise."

"Fuck." Dick runs his fingers through his shaggy hair, which was styled neatly earlier but is now wet and messy from the rain. He looks at you and says your name in an apologetic tone. "I really just made a fool of myself, didn't I?"

"Yeah, no shit." You cross your arms over your stomach, rubbing your hand up and down your arm to fight off a chill. "Dick, you are one of the most amazing people I've ever met. I care about you. You're a great leader, and an even better friend. I could never just see you as someone to hook up with. Even if…" You lose your confidence at that last sentence, trailing off a little, hesitating to finish the thought.

"Even if what?" He takes a step closer to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. His eyes search yours, looking you over, trying to read you.

You swallow the lump in your throat, and reply, "Even if you're, like, the hottest guy I've ever seen." You look off to the side, avoiding the intensity of his gaze.

Finally, a smirk appears on his lips. "So… you do think I'm hot?" His embarrassment would surely be relieved somewhat, if he could confirm you did reciprocate some of his feelings.

"Objectively, yes. But I promise, that isn't what's most important to me." You see the valet arriving in Dicks car. Looking towards the bright blue vehicle, then to the dazzling eyes in front of you sporting the same hue, you try and find the right words to express what you feel. "The last thing I want to do is to make you feel objectified. Please, Dick, could we just start over? I'd love to continue our date, now that I know it is a date."

Guilt is tugging at his heart. Your sincere words have diffusing any remaining doubt or irritation that may have been lingering in the back of his mind. The hand that is on your shoulder snakes up to tangle in your hair, close to the base of your skull. "I'd like that." His tone is softer now that he's closer to you. "And I'm sorry, too."

"You don't have to apolo-"

Dick cuts you off, yet again. But not with words. This time, it's with a kiss. You freeze for a moment, not expecting the forward affection after how upset he was with the idea of you just wanting him for his body. But it only takes a second before you relax into him, hands snaking around his broad frame, relishing the feeling of his strong arms pulling you tight against him. His body heat is welcoming, but even more so are his lips, eager and assertive against your own.

The valet exits the flashy car once its parked in the loading zone. He retrieves an umbrella, but stops short when he sees the couple that were yelling at each other just a few minutes ago, now making out, soaking wet, zero regard for who's watching. He looks to Dick, then behind him to the running vehicle, unsure of what to do next.

"Sir? Excuse me, sir? Your car is ready!"

Dick ignores him. And so do you. His kisses are quelling the guilt and frustration you feel towards yourself. Its like he's pouring his love and reassurance into you with every movement of his tongue, every brush of his lips against your own. You never imagined that Dick Greyson, son of Batman, leader of the Titans, former Robin, the one and only Nightwing, would be clutching you and kissing you so passionately in a place so public. The valet continues to awkwardly try to get his attention, but Dick doesn't care. His focus is on you, and he doesn't intend on stopping until he's made this right.

⭓ go back ⭓ masterlist ⭓

what ending did you choose first? let me know here, or leave a like/comment.

don’t steal my work. don’t repost it somewhere, upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.

[simphornies]

A/N: Short but you'll see why <3 Loves and kisses!

Word count: 1.1k (1,196) Warnings: blood, everyone's fighting, major injury, alastor being alastor

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

Deal Breaker [ Vox x Angel!Reader ] part 5

Your ears were ringing, vision blurred. The dust from the rubble got caught in your throat making you cough. Pain was the first thing you felt when your senses came to. As soon as the dust cleared you realized that you’d been entrapped under the rubble, one wrong move and it could all cave in. You looked down and two of your wings were pinned, golden blood oozing from under it.

Charlie was trying to get you out of the rubble, her screams were faintly audible and you heard her digging through. Then it stopped after another loud boom. The pain overpowered your body, you couldn’t yank yourself out without ripping your wings apart. For once in your life, you felt absolutely helpless under the rubble with no way of contacting anybody. You just hoped that the others were okay.

The Vees had come with their army of goons and with the lack of preparation everyone in the hotel had, everyone was in a struggle. Lucifer and Alastor were enraged, their demon forms fully showing. With Alastor’s tendrils and Lucifer’s mobility, they fended off the majority of the attackers. They both aimed for Velvette as soon as they got an opening.

Velvette laughed and wielded an angelic spear, launching it straight at Lucifer. Lucifer got ready to dodge it but Alastor quickly caught it, to his dismay, before it could get too close. “Wrong move.” She grinned.

Lucifer turned quickly and saw that Valentino had a dagger up to Charlie’s neck. His eyes turned red and flew straight at him. “Ah ah.” He menacingly smiled, “Any closer and Little Bleeding Heart will get it.” He cut her neck just enough to make her start bleeding.

He laughed as he saw everyone freeze, “For an establishment filled with such power…” He grinned wider with pride, “You all are so weak.”

They were at a standstill, neither side couldn’t move but it was clear that the Vees had the advantage.

Back at Vox’s security room he sees the commotion at the hotel, his heart dropping as soon as he realizes you weren’t on the field. “Y/N…” He scanned through all the footage and not once did he see you appear. He saw the first attack that made the ceiling fall. He thought of the worst. He knew he wasn’t in good enough physical condition to fight, making him hesitate. He sucked it up and left for the hotel as fast as he could go, traveling through the wires.

“What do you want?” Vaggie screamed, spear pointed at Valentino from a distance.

He laughed, “We want Y/N. To fuck off from you and work for us.” The evil in his grin wasn’t hard to miss.

“Like hell we’d ever hand her over to you, you freaks.” Husk hissed. His statement turned Valentino’s smug grin into a frown.

“Watch it, cat,” He held the blade tighter to Charlie’s neck, “I’ll kill this little bitch right n—”

A punch launched Valentino forward, blade dropping behind him. Lucifer flew to Charlie the moment he saw the opening as she fell to the floor. “Sweetie, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She coughed out. “But who-”

Everyone averted their attention to who landed the blow and to their surprise, Vox stood there seething with rage. “What the fuck, Vox?” Velvette screamed. It wasn’t long until she was surrounded by Alastor’s tendrils, all holding weapons. She groaned and crossed her arms, admitting defeat.

“I told you two to not fuck with, Y/N. Her business is with me and I change my mind however much I fucking want.” He angrily spoke, his voice laced with a stereo like effect. His cracked screen had sparks flying out of them, making him glitch every now and then.

The Vees got tied up and monitored by Lucifer while everyone else ran to find you under the rubble. You saw everything that happened thanks to the watch Vox gave you. Since Vox’s screen was cracked, you couldn’t get a hold of him and he was the only person that the watch could connect to. You just hoped everyone wasn’t hurt too bad.

Alastor stayed behind, facing Vox from across the battlefield. He glared at him, his smile becoming more menacing. “Greetings, old pal.” He snarled.

“Alastor.” Vox replied, “Look about Y/N, I’m s-”

“Keep her name-” He grew bigger in size, completely embracing his demon form, “OUT OF YOUR LYING MOUTH.” He hissed and launched his tendrils to attack him. Vox zapped away to dodge the attack, shooting electricity to make them fade away and to maintain his distance from him.

“Alastor! Let me expl-” A tendril managed to uppercut him, knocking him down. Alastor moved closer to him, looming over the injured Vox.

“My presence here in Hell surely stays an enigma. But blatant-” He kicks his side, tossing him a couple of feet. Vox clutched his side, blood dripping from the side of his mouth. “-and deliberate lies!” He stepped on him, savoring the sound of his ribs cracking underneath his shoes. “That damage my relations are where I draw the line.” His uncomfortable grin made Vox glitch out in fear, the sparks that flew out of the crack becoming more frequent. “I’ll make an example out of your wretched decisions to remind everyone not to mess with the Radio Demon.” He lifted his claws and lunged at Vox.

He was too weak to fight back or try to zap away. He knew his systems were in no condition to handle a fight, let alone one with Alastor. He looked up and watched as his claws came closer and closer.

For a moment, he thinks back on you. He remembered every detail he grew to love. He realized that he acted too quickly on his ideas. He remembered how you managed to soften his character, how you smiled whenever he’d give you gifts, how you were the common sense to his rash decisions. He remembered how your laugh would differ depending on the situation and he definitely remembered how it sounded when you were truly happy. He remembered the hospitality you provided him, the second chance you offered despite his reputation and his standing with Alastor. He realized that his pride prevented him from seeing the truth of it all.

He fell in love with you.

And he only came to realize it at the face of death.

He gritted his teeth, pushed his pain to the side and managed to zap away, avoiding Alastor’s claws. This move made him wince in pain. Alastor growled, “Putting up a senseless fight? You might just impress me.” He laughed.

Vox clenched his fists, “I’m not letting you kill me until I get to apologize to her.” He dodged an attack, “And I’m not letting anything stop me from telling her the full truth. And I put that on my soul. But I’m not hurting her more by attacking her friends. Especially you.”

He moved further away, “I surrender.” He raised his hands up in defeat. Alastor simply laughed at him before launching another set of tendrils toward him. Vox shut his eyes and braced for impact.

Taglist: @emekeneme @ghostdoodlen @chewbrry @dawko-fanpage @lofasofabread @hxzbinwrites @rapunzelbro @elsihiaweee @blackrose8425 @dickmastersworld @lofasofabread @rosiethevoxobesser @themetalbabygirl @markster666 @riskyraiker @fadingflowers-world(it won't let me tag the two of you but i'll send them)

[fluentmoviequoter]

Special Edition

Day 4 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Jason Todd x vigilante!fem!reader

Summary: Jason Todd doesn't like you. He does like Jane Austen, though.

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Warnings: angst, arguments, brief description of injuries, fluff, Pride and Prejudice quotes. reader is a vigilante!

A/N: Sorry this is late; thank you for being patient and the encouraging messages!! This is my first Jason Todd fic and I am so excited because I'm madly in love with him. He may be OOC, but I didn't specify which version so you can imagine whichever Jason you want! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Masterlist | DC Comics Masterlist | Request Info

You are the bane of Jason Todd’s existence. He’s never said it outright, but he shows you constantly that he doesn’t like you, trust you, and certainly doesn’t want to work with you. That doesn’t deter you from trying to bring a little Christmas spirit and friendship to the man in the red hood, though. All he’s missing is a little green and some lights.

December in Gotham is cold, wet, and busy for vigilantes. With Batman breathing down your neck about staying in fighting shape no matter the weather or the time of year, it can be easy to let Christmas slip by unnoticed, and Jason usually does. Since you joined the team, though, you’ve decided it will never happen again.

“Those lights are new,” you point out as you trail behind Jason, cutting through a previously undecorated alley.

“Focus!” he snaps, his helmet turning as he looks over his shoulder at you. “Just because it’s Christmas doesn’t mean we stop to look at pretty lights instead of finding Scarecrow’s new hideout.”

You shrug and jog a few steps to catch up, your eyes focused on his red helmet as he slows. He pulls a grappling hook from his belt and aims it upward.

“You don’t have one do you?” he asks, his voice giving away how annoyed and tired he is.

“Pretty sure Bruce only gives those to his sons,” you answer sheepishly. “I can just take the ladder on the backside of the building. Or we can split up.”

Jason barks a single, harsh laugh. “One, Bruce isn’t sexist like that so maybe he just knows you’re incompetent. And, two, we’re not splitting up.”

“Because I’m incompetent?” you ask, smiling.

Jason’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighs before wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you against his chest until your feet meet the solid roof. His hand raises but lingers by your side as he looks down at you. Nodding to himself, he pulls his arm back and turns to look out over the freezing, dirty streets of Gotham.

“What are the chances he’d go for the water supply again?” you ask quietly.

“Not very good,” Jason answers. “Do you think before you ask those questions?”

“Think? No. But I do see Bane pushing a huge crate into the water department offices down the street.”

Jason jumps from his crouched position and moves toward you, the heat radiating off his body like a warm hug against your skin as he stands behind you. 

There’s a hint of grumbling as he raises his voice to ask, “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“Bane didn’t walk out until after you asked, Jason. I may be incompetent but I’m not a complete idiot,” you answer. 

You blame the December weather for your change in attitude; any other time, you would have made a joke and asked for his help since Bruce was working on your grappling hook and didn’t have a spare (not that you’d ever tell Jason the wire snapped and dropped you three storeys the last time he asked you to split up). But now, you’re tired and cold and want to get away from Jason before you say something you shouldn’t, so you jump off the roof and onto the fire escape as Jason’s yells fall on deaf ears while you rush toward the water department.

When you try the handle, the doorknob twists easily, but as you prepare to open it, a gloved hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back.

“What are you doing? Trying to get yourself killed?” Jason whispers angrily.

“Why do you care, Jason? If I die, you don’t have to work with me anymore, right?”

“Just because I don’t like working with you doesn’t mean I want you dead,” he snaps.

“Then watch my back and try not to be such a Grinch.”

You tear your wrist away from him, blind to his face dropping and his jaw clenching under his mask. Pulling the door open slowly, you slip into the shadows, grateful to feel Jason behind you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You found Scarecrow’s new hideout?” Batman asks.

Jason nods, but you keep your eyes on your feet.

“And you went in - without telling anyone - only to get into a fight with Bane and doused with Scarecrow toxin?”

Jason nods again.

“Who made the call to go in without backup?”

“I…” Jason begins.

You don’t look up as you cut him off. “I did. Jason wanted to wait but I went in without him and he followed me. It’s my fault.”

“Hood, you’re dismissed then. Alfred said you need 24 hours of rest before you can patrol again,” Batman says.

Jason turns, stopping to look down at you before walking out of the Batcave. You hear Bruce pull his cowl off, but keep your eyes trained on your shoes.

“Alfred said the only reason Jason got out unscathed is because you took most of the toxin; without a mask. Why did you rush in there, then put yourself in harm’s way when Jason is more prepared to deal with it?”

“I didn’t think about that. I saw a threat and wanted to help my fri- teammate.” He’s not your friend, you remind yourself, no matter how badly you want him to be.

Bruce sighs, then clicks his tongue. You finally look up at him, and he looks like he’s fighting an internal war between Bruce and Batman. The one who wants to bench you for being reckless and the one who wants to hug you for protecting his son, even if he didn’t need it.

“Thank you. Just- call for backup next time, okay?”

You promise that you will. “But if someone is in danger, I will not hesitate to help.”

“I know that. But try to be a little more careful in the future, okay? Are you hurt?”

“No,” you lie, your mind racing on the remnants of the toxin as your face aches from the impact of Bane’s punch.

As you exit the Batcave and cut through Wayne Manor, Jason is leaning against the front door, his mask gone and his blue eyes leveled on you.

“Did he bench you?” he asks.

“No. Just told me not to do it again.”

Jason nods and pushes off the door, walking to you and looking down into your eyes. “That was incredibly stupid and if Bruce didn’t have this attachment to you, I’d be fighting him to get rid of you or stick you with someone else.”

“Sorry you feel that way,” you mumble, skirting around him and walking outside.

You breathe in the fresh air and try to ignore the feeling of your heartbeat in your face. You’ll undoubtedly have a bruise, so maybe it’s time to finally wear the mask Bruce seems keen on convincing you is for your safety. Maybe it’ll get Jason to lighten up, too. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bruce must’ve given a powerful lecture if it got you in the mask,” Jason teases.

You hum, hoping you don’t have to say anything and make the pain in your jaw worse.

“Just ordinary patrol today, so we can split up if you still want to,” he offers.

You shrug, watching the helmet tilt as its unblinking eye slits stare at you.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” you say. “Split up, then.”

You take the East side of your quadrant while Jason goes West. As the night goes on and your pain medicine wears off, you want to curl up into a ball on one of the roofs you're jumping across and go to sleep. You slow before stopping in the middle of a roof, gently pressing your hand against the underside of your jaw, trying to alleviate the pain.

“What are you doing?” Jason asks, his voice distorted by the mask as he appears suddenly behind you.

“Nothing,” you say, the word mumbled by your hand holding one side of your jaw closed.

You hear his footsteps as he walks around you, stopping in front of you and pulling your hand away from your face before gently lifting your mask to your nose. His sharp inhale is barely audible through the helmet, but you catch it.

“Look that good?” you joke.

“When did that happen? Tonight?”

“No. Bane punched me two nights ago; it’s getting worse, as usual.”

“You should have told someone; what if he had broken your jaw?”

“Then you wouldn’t have to hear my commentary that you love so much.”

“Can you take anything seriously?”

“Can you stop taking everything seriously?” you argue. “I got hurt, so what? You don’t even like me!”

“I never said- no matter my feelings, you’re my teammate. Just tell me this stuff.”

“Because you’re such a good listener,” you mutter.

“Let’s go. We’ll finish patrolling together.”

You nod, pulling your mask back down and following Jason to a roof with a bird’s eye view. You sit on the edge beside him, looking at the twinkling Christmas lights scattered throughout Gotham.

“What do you want for Christmas?” you ask.

Jason’s mask swings toward you. “What do I want for Christmas?” he repeats incredulously. “Oh, let’s see… a partner who doesn’t rush us both into danger, a life that isn’t marked by death and loss, a team that doesn’t look at me like I’m one second away from becoming a supervillain, and maybe, if there is anything like Christmas magic, a day where you don’t act like my life is worth more than yours!”

You hold your breath as he yells at you, releasing it when he looks back out to the skyline.

“Red, we’re here to relieve you. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night,” Red Robin says through the comm system.

Jason storms off as soon as he hears that, leaving you alone two nights before Christmas.

“I don’t think they have that on Amazon,” you whisper to Gotham, rubbing the good side of your face to stop yourself from crying.

✯✯✯✯✯

Bruce gave you a few nights off, presumably because Jason complained about you. The morning after Jason told you what he wanted for Christmas, you get a package containing the gift you thought he’d like. You wrap it, then set it on your kitchen counter, unsure whether it’s worth it to take it to him or if you should leave it at the manor while he’s gone. Shrugging, you decide you have time to make the decision and walk to your couch, queuing your favorite Christmas movie and trying to push Jason Todd out of your head. Deep down, you always believed he was mean because he cared and kept you safe by keeping you at arms’ distance, but now you’re not so sure.

On Christmas Eve, you find yourself standing outside Jason’s apartment, his gift in one hand and the other hand ready to knock. Taking a deep breath, you hope for the best and knock. The door opens a moment later, and Jason looks at you, his gaze catching on the bruise momentarily.

“Um, I just wanted to bring you this. And say that I’m sorry. Merry Christmas,” you explain as you extend the bag to him.

He takes it, pulling his eyes from yours to peek past the tissue paper. His blue eyes widen as he sees what’s in the bag before he closes the door quickly. You step back, hurt, and prepare to leave when the door opens again. Jason pulls you into his arms and into his apartment, kicking the door closed behind him as he holds you close. Your arms wrap loosely around his waist.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

Your arms immediately tighten around him, and you press your uninjured cheek against his chest.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Of course. Merry Christmas, Jay.”

“No, no,” he begins, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his shining like a frozen lake. “You don’t say ‘of course,’ like I deserve it. Not after everything I’ve done to you. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to apologize, but I just..”

“Push people away because you think you’re a bad guy?” you suggest quietly.

“I am a bad guy,” he responds.

“No, you’re not. Jason, do you push people away for you or for them, and their safety, because you care about them?”

Jason is quiet as he stares into your eyes, dropping his gaze to your bruise once. “I care about you,” he whispers. “You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”

“She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes,” you quote.

“Where did you find a special edition of Pride and Prejudice this close to Christmas?” Jason asks, smiling brightly.

“I thought it was going to get here too late.”

“Thank you. For the book and for pushing back.”

“You’re worth it, Jay. Merry Christmas.”

He barely lets you finish before he pulls you in for another kiss the Christmas lights twinkling on the Gotham skyline starkly contrast the streets below, going unnoticed in the background as you realize Jason only pretended not to like you because of how much he cares for you. That, and being wrapped in his arms, is the only Christmas gift you’ve ever needed.

[eviesaurusrex]

“ᴍʏ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴꜱɪʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜ.” | ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ

GIFs not mine!

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

summary: Bucky’s girl has to get her wisdom teeth removed, and he would go to all lengths to protect her from that experience—but he has to deal with the aftermath and takes care of her in the best possible ways.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of blood and surgical environment, mentions of pain and panic, Bucky being overprotective, mentions of his nightmares/night terrors, mentions of teeth removal, but overall more fluff than angst!

author’s note: This is entirely self-indulgence on my behalf bc I got mine removed on Tuesday, and it was probably the scariest experience I ever had in a doctor’s office. So, I need to imagine Bucky would be there and worry about me and take care of me.

;

He sat in the hallway, forearms resting on his knees, of which one bounced rapidly to ease the need to jump up and walk straight into that room. Steve was right next to him—Bucky suspected that YN had asked him to sit down with him, just in case—and he was thankful for his best friend’s company because the sounds he could pick up in the distance almost drove him mad.

Bucky knew that Steve probably heard them more clearly, but the faint sounds were already enough for him to want to jump up and save his girl from the excruciating fear she now had to face in there. She sounded like an injured and scared animal, and he could hear her sobs traveling to his ears—it reminded him so much of the sounds he woke himself with night after night, the panic all-consuming, and only her tender touches could pull him back out of the memories. Listening to YN making those exact same noises almost broke his heart to a million pieces.

“Why can’t they just put her under,” he mumbled angrily, hands pushing through his now short hair, which YN had cut for him during a sunny but lazy Saturday morning. Steve softly patted his shoulder. “You know her body would burn through the anesthesia faster than they could work, and they can’t use the stuff Bruce developed because she tends to get high blood pressure from it.” Steve tried everything to get through to Bucky, to console him, to make him understand that this was the only option—and that everything would be alright. “She will push through it. They gave her something to calm down, and she doesn’t feel any pain.” His words seemed like a joke as another sobbing moan was heard by the two super soldiers. “Doesn’t sound like it,” Bucky mumbled, face buried in his hands.

The blonde man sighed deeply before speaking up again. “Friday?” The AI instantly woke to life. “Yes, Captain Rogers?” He threw a look at his friend before asking the question. “How is YN holding up in there?” They had to wait a few seconds before Friday spoke again. “Agent LN‘s blood pressure is slightly elevated, but Doctor Hilton just said they would be done in only a couple of minutes. The last tooth is rotated, and he needs a bit longer to remove it than he did for the previous three. I will notify you when they are done.”

Bucky slumped back against the wall behind him, releasing the held breath in a deep sigh, but still continued the wringing of his hands. The wiring sound of his metal arm increased as he raked his metal fingers through his hair once more, his eyes closed and dark brows furrowed. At least he didn’t hear the pained moan coming from his girlfriend anymore, but he still could make out her soft crying.

The following minutes passed as slowly as eternity probably would feel before Friday announced that the procedure was finished and the last stitch was made. Neither Steve nor the nurses who worked in the medbay of the compound could stop the brunette soldier as he jumped off the too-small chair and rushed through the hallway. He didn’t even bother to check if he was allowed to enter the sterile surgical room; instead, he just stalked in there, throwing everyone a dark look, before hurrying himself over to YN, who still rested on the horizontal chair, eyes red and puffy from all the crying, tears still running down her already slightly swollen cheeks.

“Oh, YNN,” he whispered gently and softly, prying open her cramped fingers, which held tensely onto each other. He took her hand in his, pressed it against his chest, and leaned down to pepper her forehead in soft kisses, not wanting to risk hurting her if he dared to kiss her cheeks. “You did so well, doll. So, so well,” he continued his whispered praises and brushed the salty tears off her cheeks and from underneath her eyes with a feather-like touch of his thumb. She looked up at him, tears still clearly visible in her watery eyes, and another sob escaped her throat. But suddenly, she choked on it, and a bit of blood escaped her lips as she coughed, which Bucky was fast to dab from there with the towel laying on the surgical tray right next to her.

“There. All gone.” He smiled down at her, and YN stretched her arms out to him, desperation and the remnants of panic and fear on her still pretty face, and he softly pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the chair. “Make sure she lays upright for the first couple of days,” the surgeon says after Bucky has turned with her securely in his arms. “Cooling is essential, so start with it right away. When her cheeks swell up, you can do lymphatic drainage—Friday has the instructions. Check-up is tomorrow, and we will remove the stitches a week from now.“ The soldier nodded after every point made. “The painkillers and the antibiotics are in this bag, along with some instructions concerning her nutrition for the upcoming days, but Friday also generated a meal plan.” Again, another nod from Bucky while YN just clung to him. “She did really good,” Hilton smiled at last and released the couple.

Bucky carried her out of the room and let Steve accompany them on their way upwards onto the living floor. YN threw the blonde a thankful look before opening her mouth slightly. “Thanks, Stevie.” It was only a mumble, almost incomprehensible due to the cotton pads between her teeth and the still working local anesthetic, numbing her entire mouth, including her tongue, but Steve understood her nonetheless. “Everything for my sister-in-mind,” he returned with a soft smile and gently rubbed over her back. “Get some rest, cupcake.” She nodded at his words before snuggling her head back onto Bucky’s shoulder while Steve walked off and left them at the door to their shared bedroom.

“How is the pain, doll?” YN shrugged at that, clinging to him as he tried to put her on the bed and wanting to leave her alone. “Dongo,” she mumbled, and the soldier smiled down at her, crouching in front of the sitting woman. “Was never my intention, pretty girl. Just wanted to get your shoes off. Do you want some fluffy socks? One of my Henleys?” She nodded at both with brightening eyes, and Bucky smiled again before softly kissing the crown of her head, a hand gently combing through her hair. “Be right back, darling.” And he held his word, returning with her favorite pair of fluffy socks—the ones with candy canes and reindeer—and her favorite Henley—the dark red one. He helped her into both, always careful not to touch her cheeks.

He moved her into the middle of the enormous bed, propping her up with the pillows lying around and tucking her in. “Gonna do a quick run to the kitchen to get you those cooling packs, doll. Need anything else?” She shook her head and watched him as he left and even stared at the door when he returned only minutes later—arms filled with all kinds of stuff.

YN raised both brows in silent question after Bucky had neatly piled everything on top of the bedside table and tried to figure out how he could attach the cooling packs to her face. He would hold them day and night, but the soldier was sure that his girlfriend wouldn’t be fond of that suggestion. “Don’t give me that look, doll. Y’know, I can’t let you starve or dehydrate. Nat gave me those drink meals? And Tony found some of those squeeze puree bags Peter used when he got his removed. I don’t know; it says something about banana and strawberry flavor, and that sounded quite good, didn’t it? Oh, and I got you lots of water, and Wanda will bring some tea later. She said it would be antibacterial? S’supposed to help with the healing and—…” He rambled without pause, and YN gently pressed her pointer finger onto his lips and let him shut up. “Sorry,” he mumbled against her skin with a bashful smile.

“Give me those.” YN took the cooling packs out of his restless, moving hands and pointed to their shared closet. “Could you bring me a scarf?” Bucky was up and on the other side of the room within a blink of an eye and held three options over his head, a questioning expression in his eyes. “Which one?” YN smiled softly and slightly shook her head. “Doesn’t matter, silly,” she told him, but Bucky still treated the decision like the most important one on this day. “I think we should go with the grey one. It’s soft enough for your skin, it’s not too expensive to be crying over it when you ruin it, and it’s big enough for whatever you might wanna do to it,” he finally decided and brought it to her before plopping down next to YN and watching her in her doings.

She folded it in half lengthwise and put the two cooling packs in the middle before wrapping them in the fabric. Then, she lifted the now-heavy scarf and started to make a knot on the top of her head—the section with the packs now tightly resting around her chin and cheeks. Bucky stared in awe at her inventing mind, and a chuckle escaped him after YN had turned her head to face him. “You look like a little bunny. Or that one Disney character with the long ears.” YN giggled at that. “You mean Goofy?” He nodded with a grin before pulling her close to his body.

“How is the pain? Do you need some of those painkillers?” He had to make sure that it didn’t get worse while he was gone. And he was glad he asked because she nodded slowly, almost shyly. “Yeah… Think the anesthetic is wearing off,” the agent mumbled, and he was quick to get the package from the bag and one of the water bottles he had brought. “There you go,” he mumbled after carefully removing the blood-drenched cotton pads from her mouth, and she had thrown one in and emptied the bottle halfway. “Don’t have to feel embarrassed, love. Just tell me if you need another one, yeah? You don’t have to suffer only because you think you have to.” YN nodded gently and leaned her head heavily on his shoulder.

“I was so scared in there,” she finally dared to whisper and felt his hold around her tighten. “I know, love. Heard you through that entire hallway. It broke my heart not to be able to protect you from that. But you did so, so well. My brave girl,” the usually grumpy super soldier mumbled into her soft hair, pressing several kisses to her temple. “Sorry for worrying you. And scaring you. I just… just couldn’t stop the tears and the sounds because it hurt so bad but didn’t hurt at the same time because everything was numb, but my jaw…” The memory of the feeling when a tooth was pulled out alone made her nauseous again, not to mention the sickening sound when the surgeon had to crack one of her teeth in order to get it out of her damn jaw.

Bucky held her even closer at that and hummed softly. “It’s over now, love. And stop apologizing, hm? It’s my responsibility to worry myself to death when it comes to you. You’re my everything, YNN. It’s natural for me to worry about’ya.” She looked up at him and accepted the incoming forehead kiss with tiredly closing eyes, finally feeling comforted and loved and safe again. “But y’don’t have to hang here the entire week. I know you have missions and the evaluation of the recruits, and—…” Now it was Bucky’s turn to tenderly lay a finger to her lips and urge her to look up at him again. “Did you really think for a second I’d leave you all to yourself? To let you look after yourself alone? Silly woman,” he grinned and pecked the tip of her nose with a soft kiss. “You’re my responsibility, doll. So it’s my responsibility to take care of you this entire week. Haven’t had so much time with you in weeks, so I’m very willing to stay right here where I am.”

YN blinked slowly, comprehending his words, and sniffled a bit as tears tried to rise in her eyes. “You really stay here?” She couldn’t understand the luck she had to have Bucky at her side. But his nod showed her that he meant it. “You can bet on it. You will be so sick of me after these seven days,” he chuckled and let her cuddle tightly into his chest. “Not possible,” she whispered, and within a few seconds, Bucky felt her body getting heavier in his arms and all he did was hold her while she slept off the adrenaline and panic from earlier.

;

As already mentioned, this was entirely selfish to write because I really needed that. But still, I hope y’all enjoyed it at least a bit :3 As usual: comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated!

taglist: @seasonofthenerd @onecrazydirectioner @meeksmusic83 @nyctophilic0vitnir

[vvluvmai]

𝑭𝑺𝑴 ✩ 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑵

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(adj.) feeling sad and lonely because of unrequited love

warn. Fem reader, ooc kaiser?, angst w/o comfort

sum. Years and years went by, the prideful man kept his secrets to himself, his most troubling one being love, love he had for his best friend since childhood. And to see her with another man, laughing and hugging, on the day he had built up enough courage to apologise and maybe even confess to the very person he had been in love and loving in secret for many years, it shattered whatever hope he had been holding onto for years. For the boy cried himself to sleep that day, and everytime his mind so cruelly reminds him of that fateful day.

char. Micheal Kaiser.

cw. This was written way before kaiser’s backstory was revealed but I tried putting in elements of kaiser's personality and updated it a lil, and also, my writing has gotten rusty after MONTHS of not writing so pls 🐻 with me <3 rushed(?), ooc, kinda cringe, drabble.

an. This is a pretty short drabble, lemme know if yall would like me into a bigger more clarified fic!!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ☃︎⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Michael was your typical highschool popular asshole. Even to his friends, he'd throw them under the bus just for shits and giggles. But yet, he had the tiniest of a soft side for his best friend, one who he.. at least treated as a human being. You'd always listen to him, his troubles, his gossip, hell, even about the most incoherent rants he blabbered out whenever he drank too much. He was much like his dad; a drunken, sentimental asshole.

Even at his most vulnerable moments such as..being drunk, his mind still somehow managed to keep a thick, strong wall protecting him against the judging hearts of others no matter how much he trusted or felt comfortable with them. Yet he felt comfortable in your arms when he angrily or stupidly rant about whatever bothered his mind, and at his worst, he'd cry in your arms completely unresponsive. Which has only happened once, an incident he swears never happened and continues to gaslight you into thinking it truly never happened.

Michael has always despised crying, growing up with both his mother and father belittling him whenever he cried because of the scoldings and punishments he gets for being what most would call a ‘problem child'.

And as a result of this, he'd always suck up his tears no matter how blurry his eyes get or no matter how much his eyes burn, never making a single decibel of sound no matter how much he felt like he needed to sob and bawl even when there's that mind numbing feeling of barbed wires tightening around his neck and digging into his body and killing every need to run and run far away.

Even if no one was around, he'd just simply let the tears fall, his body still as a rock and not making a sound. But he liked it this way. This way, no one would know that he was nothing more than a ‘schwache Heulsuse’. This way, no one would see those crystal tears that dared to run away from his eyes and thus, no one would be able to call him a ‘Weichei’ or ‘Rückgratlose Scheiße’ as his parents did. And to most, he'd seen like he's sleeping if it weren't for the tight grip of his pillow and the constant scratching of his arms to distract him from the pain that clouded his heart emotionally.

Michael's sarcastic and narcissistic personality was yet another result of his childhood and the constant drowning out whatever negative thoughts came to cloud his mind; hurling insults and gossiping helped keep his mind off what he'd have to endure at home. Constantly taunting, teasing, poking fun no matter who it was. But when it came to you, oh, you, people would die from shock to see how he was with you behind closed doors. A smile so genuine and soft, laughs so happy and beautiful and the way the corners of his eyes would crinkle and pupils shine when he was with you, timeless and worth admiring.

If only he'd let go of that habit of his, pushing others away when got too close to his heart. And maybe then, he'd have you with him, smiling and laughing the same way he did when he was with you.

Well, highschool has passed. And now he was at blue lock, fighting for his life, rendering his enemies to mere shame to fill that disgusting—as he called it—aching void in his chest. The victory of defeating his opponents were always short lived, 5 seconds of the feeling of glory that vanished as fast as it came, but for cameras he maintained that smug, proud and confident face in hopes that maybe one day, the unrequited love of his life would leave her boyfriend for him.

He knew it was a shitty thought, the most pathetic and the most low he'll ever stoop to. But he couldn't care anymore, for someone who has gotten everything he ever wished for, this was that one thing that seemed so far away and ever so fleeting. Ah, if only he was more trusting. If only his arrogant and ignorant self could've let down the walls he built to keep the judgement of others at bay, so that he could be himself with the only person who actually cared.

He got everything he wanted, but not what he needed.

And now he had to face the mistakes of his way haunting him whenever he went out to clear his mind. Even then, she'd never leave him be. Her, so stubborn, that even now she refused to abandon him like all the others. Even if she was gone physically, she was still there in his mind constantly. His whole body tormented him, his eyes faking the illusions of her, his mind constantly bringing up the moments of comfort, laughter and banter he had with her. And the painful, disgusting, torturous moments where he made her cry, arguments, disagreements and shouting. And that one specific moment where his life had ended, when his life decided to walk far away from him was the moment that still kept him company, physically reminding him of what he had lost.

And now, his life was back to haunt him again. This time, it was no trick orchestrated by his eyes and mind to taunt him again, this time, it was real and he could swear on his bloodline.

The fashion he wore ever so immaculately, designed to flaunt his wealth, power and 'confidence', had people turning their heads in a whiplash. Michael looked around, looking for a store to waste money on and in the midst of his search, but his eyes caught a familiar face laughing.

Eyes widening in quick realisation as he kept walking forward that it was her, (name). The tiniest of smiles graced his face, little hopes clinging to his heart that he could fix what he broke months ago. But soon enough, all little hopes washed away like the shore when his eyes saw that (name) as clinging on to the arm of another man as they both waited for the red light to go green. Smiling, laughing and gleeful. Never had she looked this at peace, this joyful with him and it served fuel to the growing angering pit in his stomach. A pit of fury, hatred, anxiety and hurt all directed to none other than himself, for he knew that he was at fault.

Hidden in the bustling crowds, kaiser stood quietly. Face blank except for the way his eyes had seemed a little more dull than usual, mind full. His eyes blankly watched the red go green, and the standing couple walk.

Again, he watched his life woke away from him. And again, he was reminded,

He had everything he wanted, but not everything he needed.

♯

𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 —

Rückgratlose Scheiße - Spineless shit

Schwache Heulsuse - weak crybaby

Weichei - wimp

copyright © @vvluvmai

Thank you so much to all my clouds for waiting for so long, I'm not dead, I'm just dealing with abit IRL <33

tags: @kaiserkisser

[definitelynotstable]

Camomile pt. 7 [Ghost x gn!Reader]

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10

AN: Please lemme know if you are liking this series I'm desperate for reassurance and validation <3

Synopsis: You're no longer in the hands of the enemy but the memories still linger. Ghost helps you through a nightmare. Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: injuries, nightmares, torture, kinda graphic, non-con touching (men are creeps) Ghost x gn!Reader (callsign Rags): Hurt/comfort. Loads of fluff. Nightmare trope!

———

It was pitch black when you woke. You reached up to tug at the eye mask when a warm hand covered yours, pulling it gently over your head. Cobalt eyes met yours.

“Ghost.” You breathe. You missed him.

“The very same.” He replies with a gentle nod. Soap and Gaz have left and the Lieutenant has dragged a chair over to your bedside; barely leaving any room for his legs. He is leaning forwards, tattooed forearm resting on the rail and dangling near your thigh. He’s no longer in uniform or tactical gear; his mask replaced by a simple black balaclava. Suddenly you realise you have no idea where you are. He tilts his head, watching you as though he can see the thoughts running rampant behind your eyes.

“Where are we?” You ask, thankful your voice isn’t as scratchy as it was before. Ghost leans back a little but keeps his arms resting on the rail.

“A base somewhere in Europe, I’ve not really asked to be honest.”

You frown, “That’s unlike you.”

“Yeah well,” he laughs softly, though it isn’t a happy sound, “geography wasn’t quite the priority, was it, love?”

“Suppose not,” you mumble. His eyes soften and he reaches out to pat your knee.

“I’ll ask Price when I see ‘im. It’s somewhere nearby, though. Didn’t have enough time to RTB.”

You nod slowly, fingering one of the wires by your side. Ghost just watches, waiting for you to speak.

“No one’s told me anything.” You feel like a child being left out of adult discussions. “Haven’t even spoken to the doc, Price didn’t properly debrief me – even Soap and Gaz wouldn’t talk about it. What am I missing here?”

The Lieutenant knew it was coming. He’d waited to see you just for this reason. You needed rest, not intel.

Ghost sighs. “How about I get you a cuppa? Let’s start there.”

———

Broken ribs, cigarette burns, slight pneumonia, minor internal bleeding, a handful of lacerations – to name a few. Ghost had brought you your file and held your steaming mug of camomile while you flipped through.

“What’s this?” You ask, pointing to a thick black line, roughly drawn. “Why’s someone redacting my personal medical shit?”

“The same reason Price won’t debrief you yet – you need rest, Rags.” He swipes the file from your hands and before you can argue settles the steaming mug in your grasp instead. You glare at him as you try not to spill it, craning your neck to take a sip. Ghost shakes his head and wraps an arm behind your back, supporting your weight while he readjusts the pillows. You lean back, his hand lingering until it’s pressed between your warmth and the bed. He lowers himself back into the chair, his hands wrapped around his own mug.

“That isn’t fair.” You finally say, too tired to argue but not willing to let the subject drop. “I have the right to know.”

Ghost takes a long sip before replying. “You do.”

“Then why–“

–“Because it’s a lot.” He says, cobalt eyes firm as they hold your gaze. “It’s a lot and you aren’t well yet. You can barely sit up on your own and can’t stay awake for more than a couple of hours. Please trust me, you’ll know in time.”

“But I want to know now,” your mumble, looking down as tears prickle against your will. The Lieutenants eyes soften.

“I know you do.”

“I just don’t like not knowing things.” A tear escapes. You swipe at it angrily.

“I know you don’t.”

“I just –“

–“I know.” He nods, wrapping a hand around your wrist, sliding it up to your forearm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Your lip is wobbling now but Ghost doesn’t move. His thumb swiping over the soft part of your wrist. Back and forth.

“I know, Rags.”

And you get the feeling that he does. He doesn’t talk much about his past but you can recall a few months ago when a mission went awry and you walked in on Gaz stitching him up – shirt rolled to hang loosely around his neck. Scars weren’t abnormal for soldiers, but the markings were repetitive and consistent. Corporal punishment. Something you were all too familiar with as of late.

The Lieutenant doesn’t stop. Gentle and slow. Letting you know you were with him and you were safe. He watches as you fight the sleep weighing heavily on your eyelids.

And when your eyes fall shut and your breathing deepens he still stays.

———

“Ah, дорогая,” a voice whispers menacingly in your ear. Fingers stroke down your cheek, your chest and down over your navel. Your stomach muscles ripple and flinch away on impulse. The chain rattles as you lean away from his touch. His grin widens, yellow teeth glinting.

“Ready to talk?”

You clench your teeth; jaw locked and tongue pressed to the roof of your mouth.

“Still not talking, дорогая?” He’s rougher now, hand coming to grasp your throat, the squeeze a warning.

“I have nothing to say.” You spit out, swallowing against his hand. He chuckles.

“So feisty.” He shakes his head, patting your cheek roughly. “It won’t last. You’ll be screaming soon. I’ve always found the screams of women far more satisfying than men.”

The smell of burnt flesh wafts up to your nose and you look down. He’s holding a lighter against your bare torso. Why can’t you feel it? You watch as your flesh melts away into a gaping trench; your eyes watering at the stench. Blood bubbles and boils around the edges. The pain hits you in a wave, bursting and overflowing. The damn breaks and a scream rips from your throat. He laughs then, tipping his head back as he watches you writhe.

“Rags!” Hands shake you roughly, wrapping around your shoulders. You try to shake them off but they refuse to let go.

“Rags!”

Your eyes snap oven, hair sticks to your sweat covered face and you fight the hands holding you still.

“No, no, no, please!” You can’t help but cry, twisting in their grip. “Please.”

“Rags.” The voice is soft but firm. “Look at me.”

That voice. Where have you heard that voice?

You wrench your eyes open, tears pool and trickle down your cheeks. Cobalt blue stares back down at you, blond brows creased in concern.

“Rags? Are you with me?”

You’re gasping like a fish out of water. Chest heaving; breath ragged.

“G–Ghost?”

His mask has slipped down, lower than you’ve ever seen it. With a shaking hand you tug it back up. He catches your wrist, a finger circles and tickles your palm.

He nods, his other hand stretches out and gently brushes strand of hair away from your forehead. “S’alright. I’m here. You’re safe.”

You feel so tired. Rung out like a rag and set to dry in the wind. His hand has settled on your cheek. Cautious and gentle. “They took my camomile.” You whisper and Ghost tilts his head, confused.

“What do you mean?”

Your face crumples under his concerned gaze.The thoughts running through your mind are no longer logical. “The camomile I keep in my spare pocket – they took it.”

His thumb swipes under your eye, catching a tear. He frowns, “That’s ok, I’ve got some with me.”

Your chest heaves again and a sob slips from your mouth. “I was worried you wouldn’t have any left and Soap and Gaz only drink coffee – Price too.”

“Oh, darling.” He breathes, eyes sad as he strokes your jaw.

–“and you would have no-one to drink camomile with if I was gone.” You gasp, now clutching at his own wrist was you ramble. Your breathing is picking up again, a machine beeps more rapidly behind you.

Ghost’s face has crumpled completely as he watches you, unsure what to do. Your grip on him tightens, almost grasping the Lieutenant as though he will slip away.

“Would you like a hug?” He asks, throat constricting. He knows how hard it is to accept touch after experiencing the nonconsensual grip of the enemy. You nod frantically. It feels like you are falling apart at the seems and you need him to hold you while you sew yourself back together.

Slowly – making sure his hands are always in your line of sight – Ghost collapses the bedrail and slips in beside you.

“Show me where I can put my hands, love.” He murmurs in your ear and with shaking hands you guide his arms around you. You settle against his broad chest, your breathing slowly syncing with his own.

“Thank you.” The words so quiet he can barely hear it. He tucks you in closer, resting his chin against the top of your head.

“This ok?” He mumbles into your hair. You nod gently against him.

“Stay?”

“No place I’d rather be.”

— — —

Masterlist

Next Part:

[chelseeebe]

wherever you stray (i follow)

more apocalypse au! yayyy

i actually really am enjoying writing this bc it’s so different.. i haven’t really decided if it’s zombies or UD related but i guess it’s not explicitly mentioned yet.. anyway, there may or may not be an appearance from someone from steve’s past.. we’ll have to see

i’m sorry everything is taking so long.. it’s the festive period and i am working like crazy while also trying to see my friends and acc enjoy the time so my writing time is limited

as always, 18+.

₊ ⊹

steve had never expected life on the road to be so.. fun?

he feels weird even thinking about it because in all honesty, the shit you’d both endured while on this journey had been anything but fun. he thinks, or rather knows, that if it were anyone else but you, he’d have turned back a long time ago.

you’re not easy on him by any means, coaxing him into walking to the next town over after he’d already proclaimed he was done for the night and making him open the scary doors while you stood poised. nevertheless, he enjoyed it.

that was until now, when everything was flipped on its head and you were the one begging to call it a night.

‘steve,’ you warn from somewhere behind him. he barely glances back, keeping on hobbling forward. his leg was throbbing, the pain searing up to his thigh, but he’d never tell you that.

steve had got caught up in some barbed wire a few days ago, the sharp metal had torn his leg to shreds. it was an almighty wound that had set you back a couple of days in the schedule. you’d been petrified of tetanus, asking him hourly if he was sure that he’d had his vaccinations, tenderly prodding the painful area as you muttered a plethora of symptoms of infection.

there wasn’t really much he could do except bandage it up and hope he didn’t die. maybe a few years ago he would’ve freaked the hell out over it but now he’d realised that that never helped anybody. it especially would not help you.

‘i’m fine,’ he grits, stopping to turn and look at you. your face painted with the deepest frown, arms crossed over your chest. it was reminiscent of his mother, how she’d stand a the kitchen table when he’d come home with yet another black eye. except he felt you actually cared, she had just wanted an explanation.

‘no you’re not,’ you assert, as if you knew him better than himself. hey, after this maybe you did. ‘there’s a perfectly good house here.. we can rest for a while and i can check your leg,’ you bargain with him, trying the puppy dog eye technique that very often won him over.

steve holds his hands up, he wasn’t going to let you win this one, not after he had been the sole reason you guys were so behind. ‘i’m okay.. i don’t need to rest, i’ve got at least another two miles in me,’ toothy grin on full display.

‘i’m not going back and forth with you, we’re stopping here for the night.’

he sighs as you stomp angrily up to him, ‘i am fine.. no we’re not. why don’t you just believe me?’

steve thinks he sees hell in your eyes, the scorn of the devil written all over your face, ‘because i love you and i don’t want you to lose your fucking leg for the sake of two extra miles,’ your brows knotted together in pure rage.

he doesn’t respond, decides it’s better for his health not to. rather just nodding, letting you guide him towards the, hopefully, derelict house. your words ring around his head, echoing loudly as you do all of the heavy lifting, checking the house and ensuring there were no nasty surprises.

love.

you said you love him.

he wouldn’t ever admit to it, but he’d been toying with the same thought for at least two weeks now. deciding over and over again that it couldn’t possibly be love, it was too soon. he was just.. infatuated, or something.

but hearing the words straight from your mouth solidified his feelings.

the moment you clear one of the upstairs bedrooms and bundle him inside, his grin is unstoppable. reaching his eyes as he just stands staring, waiting for you to finish barricading the damn door before he speaks.

‘what?’ you question, startled by his stillness, ‘what are you looking at?’

‘what d’you say outside?’ he doesn’t take his eyes off of you even as you rush around, checking the windows and then slinging the heavy bag into the floor.

you blink back at him until it clicks, ‘wha- oh,’ your cheeks burn, suddenly much more interested in the room than him, ‘please don’t.’

‘you said you love me,’ steve beams, ignoring your warning though he’d probably regret it.

‘steve, i didn’t-,’

he cuts you off before you can even finish, not allowing you to play the bashful game, ‘you didn’t mean it? i don’t believe you,’ his unfaltering smile still occupying his entire face, right up to his eyes.

you punch his arm, now stood directly in front of him, ‘i didn’t mean to say it like that,’ your own smile inches onto your lips, he’s almost begging you to let it out, ‘i thought it’d be a little more romantic than this,’ gesturing towards the rundown house you stood in.

‘i don’t think romance exists anymore,’ his arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer as you use his shoulders for leverage, ‘say it again.’

you groan, hands coming to connect around his grubby neck, ‘do i have to?’

‘yes.’

steve adores how diffident you become, ducking your head down before the words form and the very quietly squeaking out a tiny, ‘i love you.’

it’s enough for him, his grin growing tenfold, ‘i love you too,’ bumping his nose against yours, drawing your attention back to his face rather than the splintered floorboards.

what’s left of the pale sunlight reflects off of your eye, practically glimmering at him, ‘i know,’ you giggle quietly, ‘you said it in your sleep the other night..’

his smile drops, ‘what? you weren’t supposed to find out like that,’ sighing softly, his stupid, drugged up brain had let it slip before he even had the chance to.

you respond by pressing your sweet lips to his, god he wishes he had some chapstick. you deserve more than his cracked lips.

far more than this world could offer you.

though he would certainly try his hardest.

-

steve normally took first watch because he knew if he didn’t, you’d never wake him up for his shift, rather letting him sleep all night but tonight he doesn’t argue. his leg hurts too much to waste time going back and forth with you.

it’s only when he wakes up to a room full of sunlight that he starts to question how long he’d been out. there’s an echo of his name coming from somewhere, still too encompassed by sleep to figure out what the hell was going on.

‘look who’s finally awake,’ the voice starts but it’s not you.

you’re not next to him either, his arms cradle the pillow where your body should’ve been. that’s when he turns, the bedroom door flung open and a familiar figure looms in the doorway.

‘tommy?’ he croaks out, sitting up against the headboard.

what the hell was happening?

you’re nowhere to be seen, the makeshift barricade pushed back against the wall rather than where it should’ve been. his mind instantly flashes to the worst case scenario, you’ve been taken or tommy has done something to you.

holy shit.

‘stevie! i didn’t know if you’d recognise me,’ tommy leers, still lingering in the doorway, hand poised on his gun.

steve hadn’t seen the boy in years at this point, not properly. they passed each other in the halls but after the whole ordeal with jonathan in the alley, they hadn’t spoke since. which steve was eternally grateful for, the red head was in simple terms, an asshole. there was no part of him that wanted to be involved with people like that.

‘what the hell are you doing here?’ steve questions, voice still heavy with sleep.

god he hopes this is just a bad dream and any second now, he’ll wake up and you’ll be by his side.

tommy’s face drops in faux-offence, ‘c’mon man, is that any way to treat an old friend?’ the side of his lips curling up. he always was a horrible person, provoking people til they had no choice but to respond.

‘how’d you know i was here?’ he asks, deciding not to mention you on the off chance you had just run off and tommy had no idea of your existence.

‘i was searchin’ houses.. thought you’d be smarter than this man, sleepin’ with no protection,’ his eyes fall to steve’s leg, eyebrows raised with opportunity, ‘and you’re hurt,’ the boy tuts, ‘this should be easy then.’

steve stiffens up, his bag was on the floor next to the bed, there’s no chance he’s faster than tommy.. he’d never get it in time.

it’s then that steve’s eyes flit to you, appearing silently behind tommy in the doorway. his heart drops. you were alive. tommy clocks on immediately, eyes following steve’s gaze to your looking figure behind. but before he can turn around fully, the baseball bat connects with his cranium, his body falling to the floor with a mighty thump.

you stand staring at the lifeless body for a moment, chest heaving as you step over him and over to the bed. wide-eyed and trembling, god knows how much of that you heard.

‘oh my god you’re okay,’ steve starts, reaching up to hold onto your cheeks, ‘i thought something had happened.. jesus christ where were you?’ he’s trying not to sound like such an overbearing mother but it’s not exactly working.

‘your leg was hot.. i went to go find medicine, i barricaded it from the other side but i didn’t think that asshole would show up,’ your hand caresses his atop of your cheek, ‘i got the medicine though,’ you look somewhat hopeful, pulling the bottle from your pocket and presenting it to him.

once steve has calmed down a little, he takes two of whatever it is, looking nervously at his ex-friend still on the floor, ‘i can’t believe you killed him..’ he trails off, even if he didn’t particularly like tommy, he didn’t want him dead.

your face screws up, pausing as you shove your belongings into your rucksack, ‘he’s not dead steve,’ you state, features contorted as you glare at him.

‘oh,’ he chuckles awkwardly, relief washing over him. ‘well shit,’ a smile twitches at the corner of his lips, taking over when you shake your head in disappointment. look, he wasn’t the brightest, never had been.

‘he’s probably gonna wake up soon so we need to get the hell outta’ here,’ you frown, glancing at the lifeless body.

you trundle over, taking the man’s gun from his hand, patting his pockets for anymore concealed weapons he may have. pulling a small switchblade from his back pocket, steve recognises it immediately. he’d been there when tommy had carved his and carol’s initials into some old tree in the woods by school. he wonders if it’s still there now.

‘how d’you know this guy anyway?’ you ask, slipping the knife into your own pocket. he watches dubiously, he’d never been a thief.

‘we were best friends..’ he swallows, maybe he had left some things out about his life before the end of the world. there’s no way to explain why they drifted apart other than to admit to how cruel he once was. ‘just drifted, you know?’ it wasn’t exactly a lie and he’s not sure you’d even care but now didn’t feel like the appropriate time to admit to all of his wrongdoings.

you nod, slinging your bag over your shoulder, ‘sucks.. but i’m not gonna lie, he didn’t seem like a great person,’ shrugging as steve finds his feet, getting off of the bed for the first time in hours.

‘he wasn’t,’ again, not a lie.

you hum in response and steve looks to the floor. he wasn’t keen on discussing the ins and outs of his friendship with tommy hagan right now. or ever really.

-

the rest of the journey up here had been pretty non-eventful. his leg was healing nicely and he was able to walk for at least another hour without complaining out loud. most people had obviously found communities, not daring to go out in the road anymore.

without mention of the run in with tommy, it had just been just the two of you. well you and the grotesque, rotting monsters that roamed around the forest. he thinks the cold must slow them down as your gun goes, mostly, unused.

steve has never seen you look quite so excited. the moment you’d crossed the boundary into your town, you’d been babbling nonstop about where you grew up. pointing out important locations and silly details about things he couldn’t even picture. his eyes instinctively roll when you mention the now decrepit diner you had your first date. he can’t help it.

it’s only when you near what he assumes is your neighbourhood that you quiet down, holding onto his hand with an iron clad grip. your nails dig into the grime covered skin when you spot the gargantuan make-shift wall up in front. he doesn’t squirm or pull away, instead he whispers a small it’s okay as you near the cul-de-sac.

‘what if they’re not there?’ you ask, shrinking into yourself.

he doesn’t have the right words to assure you but he’ll try his hardest, ‘then.. then we’ll find them.’ he hasn’t a clue what lies on the other side of that wall, perhaps the people behind it weren’t friendly and you’d never find out or maybe there weren’t even any people left.

but you’ll find out together and that’s all that matters.

someone’s head pokes over the top of the wall, gun poised at steve’s head. they must be stupid if they think he’s the one they should be scared of.

‘stop right there, don’t come any closer,’ the heavily armed woman shouts down, ‘what do you want?’

steve looks to you, unsure if he should even attempt to speak right now. his fingers squeeze yours for silent reassurance, there’s a voice above but he can’t see who it’s coming from, tucked behind the wall as they inevitably discuss your fate.

‘i used to live here,’ you speak, just loud enough for the first woman to peer down at you. she looks back towards the other mystery voice and then another face appears, eyes like saucers when they spot you.

‘open the gate,’ she orders, ‘open the gate now!’ barking at the other lady who jumps to it.

steve stands in quiet wonderment, glancing back at you with your mouth hung open. so you must know each other. or is that your mom? now he truly understands how you must’ve felt coming out of that nurses office to a bunch of strangers.

but you don’t let go of his hand when the gate creaks open just enough to let the two of you through. the houses are all more or less how he imagined they’d looked before everything started.

‘oh my god,’ you sputter out, dropping his hand to jog over to the faceless woman, throwing your arms around her neck as she pulls you in.

you don’t look particularly similar but steve has no idea what your parents look like. he wasn’t quite so prepared to meet the parents though he’d had weeks and weeks to think about what to say.

who even is he? not your boyfriend. yet. maybe it just wouldn’t be brought up in the midst of all the reunions.

he knows you love each other, you’d said that much, that he’d hobbled across state lines for you and would do just about anything to make sure you were safe so, did labels even matter in the apocalypse?

‘i can’t believe you’re here,’ the lady cries, still wrapped up in your arms. the locals are looking on with a mixture of confused and joyous looks on their faces.

‘neither can i,’ you sniff, pulling back and looking at her, hands still firmly on her arms. ‘are they here?’ you rush out excitedly, full of hope.

the woman’s, who is still yet to be introduced to, face falls, her voice dropping an octave as she speaks, ‘baby..’ she tremors through the sentence. ‘they left to go and find you.. i don’t- they haven’t come back..’

your smile drops immediately, steve’s heart sinks. he couldn’t begin to imagine how you felt. the pair of you had made it across multiple states, lived through steve’s injury and evil past friends for nothing.

he supposes that it wasn’t for nothing exactly. despite the bickering and rumbling stomachs, it had brought the two of you closer.

now his heart breaks the way yours does when you bury your face into his chest, shoulders shaking as you wet his already ruined shirt.

-

the next few hours are a blur of introductions, meeting people you called neighbour not so long ago. the now-identified woman was called janet, who had told him all about how they fortified the neighbourhood and their efforts to keep everyone alive. they’d done something similar to the school, kept the water system running so they could clean and drink and hoarded supplies the second they realised the army weren’t coming for them.

this was followed by a tour of the place and then your house. it had been left untouched in the hopes that your parents would come back eventually. dusty pictures of you in school, at college and one he particularly likes of you at christmas, nose scrunched up as you grin into the distance.

maybe he’d snag that one for himself.

it’s only when you bundle him into your room that you really let go. sobbing in his arms on your bed. surrounded by a time capsule of the past. if it felt weird for him, it must be utterly awful for you.

‘i thought they’d be here,’ you choke through tears, ‘they were supposed to be here,’ fingers grabbing at his biceps.

steve’s not known for his quick thinking but he realises there’s not much else he can say. the situation would seem hopeless to most but he wasn’t letting you give up now. not after you’d dragged him thousands of miles to get here.

‘you were at college in indiana, right?’

it’s enough for you to stop crying and look up at him through your wet lashes, ‘yeah.. why?’

you had never really spoken about college. he knew you went to college in indianapolis, that was obvious from the ratty letterman jacket you’d been wearing when he stumbled upon your camp, but that was about it.

‘so we go back to indiana,’ his fingers tangle in your hair, unsure if a smile would be completely inappropriate.

‘steve.. we-,’ you go to object but he can see the cogs turning in your brain, it’s the only sensible suggestion either of you had. ‘you would do that?’

this is where he smiles, the corners of his mouth twitching upward, ‘of course,’ he’s not even sure why it’s even a question.

he’d do anything, traipse after you to the ends of the earth if you asked. hell, he’d do it even if you didn’t.

he continues on, ‘we’re in this together now.. like, forever,’ pressing his forehead to yours, thumb coming to swipe over your sodden cheek.

there’s hope, or at least a tinge of optimism back in your eye, ‘forever?’

steve nods, caressing your dirtied face as if it were precious porcelain, ‘is that alright with you?’

maybe, in a roundabout way, that was him asking you if you’d be his girlfriend. he knows he probably should ask properly but he’s sure you know.

it’s contagious, his smile, your lips curving as you blink slowly, ‘sounds good to me.’

that night, you’re fully relaxed, a kind of placid state that steve hadn’t seen since the school. normally, you’re on high alert even in bed. your muscles stiff as you let him sleep. but this time, he lets you drift off first.

his fingers glide through your now clean hair, eyelids fluttering shut on his chest. he thinks you might even start purring.

instead, your breaths get deeper, and slower until you no longer even murmur in response to whatever he was saying. and eventually, steve drifts off too. relieved that you can both sleep tonight, both feeling a sense of security that hadn’t been there for weeks.

-

steve awakens suddenly at what he determines the middle of the night, your palms clammy as they grab hurriedly onto his chest. you’re panting, desperately trying to steady your breath when his arms tighten around your shoulders.

‘what’s wrong?’ he asks, still in that confusing transition between sleep and awake, his eyes struggle to adjust to the dark room.

you exhale, the outline of your face suddenly begins to form, ‘i had a bad dream, i’m sorry,’ chin pointed upwards. your face is wet, eyes glossy with tears.

‘it’s okay.. it’s okay,’ he soothes, heart still pounding rapidly even after he knows no creatures have mattered down the door and had a chomp on your leg.

you swallow loudly, still gazing up at him when his head rests back on the pillow. ‘i love you,’ you squeak into the quiet night, the third time he’d ever heard it tumble out of your lips.

it mostly went unspoken. coming through in little gestures, feeding him his medicine or scratching your nails into his scalp the nights the pain was too much to sleep. he liked it that way. as if your love was only for the two of you.

this world didn’t deserve to witness that.

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 17/34 - wires and tubes

[read on AO3]

Oops. Do you know how many times I've almost accidentally posted a chapter? It finally happened. Well, here you go 😂

The call comes in the midst of a case that already has Mulder torn up and wild with determination. He never did do well with missing persons cases, especially where little girls were involved. It's even worse now that they actually kind of, sort of, might have a baby on the way, and she worries he won't be able to handle it.

She doesn't want him to lose himself in this. She needs him now more than ever, and it scares her when he gets this way. She only hopes Skinner can talk some sense into him.

But she's the one to answer the phone. She's the one who has to tell him the news. She's the one who has to break his heart in its already fragile state, praying he'll come out on the other side of it okay.

So she opens the door to Skinner's office, and meets her partner's eyes from across the room.

“What?” he asks, frustration simmering below the surface. Evidently his talk with the Assistant Director isn't going well, but that hardly matters now.

She shakes her head, wishing he would just come with her so they could talk in private. But he and Skinner are adamant that they need to finish this discussion, completely unaware of the tragic event that has occurred. 

“Mulder…” she says, sorrow dripping from her voice. “It's your mother.”

-.-.-

He's out of the office in a flash before she can even explain what happened. It’s all she can do to keep up with him as he rushes toward the garage, his fear and anger wafting off him in waves.

“Where are you going?” she calls after him.

“My mother's house,” he answers.

She chokes back a sob, willing herself to hold things together for the both of them. To keep a level head. “She's not there, Mulder,” she speaks, her words halting him in his tracks. 

He whirls on her, crossing the distance and stopping a foot in front of her, seething silently with a wild, frantic look in his eye that she never likes seeing.

“Where is she?” he grits out, his voice low.

She tries to grab for one of his hands, but he pulls back, rejecting the proffered comfort.

“The hospital,” she answers, her brows slanted in silent apology. “A neighbor called, concerned about the smell of gas. The paramedics found her. Mulder, your mother overdosed on sleeping pills. She tried to suffocate herself.” His face falls, but he quickly recovers, replacing the dejected expression with one of adamant denial. 

That's another look Scully doesn't like to see. 

“She's alive, but in a coma,” she explains, hoping to put a stop to Mulder’s spiraling before it starts, but it's too late.

“She tried to call me,” he says, starting to pace. “She left a message wanting to talk, but I didn't– I didn’t call her—”

He stops, crouching low to the ground and practically pulling his hair out of his head, fighting back red hot tears in his eyes.

“She wouldn't do this,” he says angrily, shaking his head, and if being loud meant being confident, then she might be convinced. “Th– they got to her! They tried to kill her!”

“No, Mulder.”

“Yes!” he yells, drawing suspicious glances from other agents in the hallway. “She must have had information about the case,” he continues, standing back to his full height and resuming his pacing. “It's all connected, just like I thought. Samantha—”

“Mulder, STOP!” Scully yells, gripping his bicep with her hand and holding him in place by sheer force of will. She slows her breathing, lowering her voice. “She may not ever wake up, but right now your mother is alive and in the hospital,” she says, appealing to his rational mind. “Before you go chasing after shadows, at least go see her.”

She lets her plea hang in the silence of the hallway. It seems their display has effectively scared off everyone within hearing distance, and she counts herself lucky that security hasn't come to escort them out of the building.

She can see him fighting back against his own reason, determinedly keeping his face screwed up in anger so as not to lose hold of the fury that fuels him. But her prolonged stare causes it to melt away, and his face crumples in defeat just before he collapses in her arms.

Sobs shake him, and it takes all her strength to keep him standing. His face buries into the crook of her shoulder, and she wraps her arms around his back, rubbing soft circles between his shoulder blades.

She hears Skinner pop his head out of his doorway, and she meets his eyes, beyond caring about the physical display in their place of work. The man merely nods in understanding, giving his stamp of approval for whatever needs to be done.

-.-.-

The hospital is eerily quiet, the sterile white walls echoing with every minute sound.

“Teena Mulder, please,” Scully says to the woman at the desk.

Mulder follows behind her looking lost.

They're shown to a hospital room where his mother lies surrounded by wires and tubes, her heartbeat beeping out slowly but steadily over the monitor.

Mulder goes to her side, grabbing her hand in his.

She hates to see him in agony like this. He falls to his knees beside her bed, murmuring incomprehensible apologies and pleadings between bouts of tears. He clings to her cold, frail hand like a lifeline, and though most times his relationship with his mother seems fraught, it's times like this—she knows—when he's at risk of losing what little he has, that she remembers that he loves his mother, just as any little boy might.

A doctor comes by and tells them what happened. The implications are clear, to someone with a medical background. Today was almost the day Mulder became an orphan. Today he almost became the last Mulder standing.

Eventually he's able to calm down a little, allowing himself to be pushed into a chair by her bedside.

“She might never know, Scully,” he says dejectedly. “She has no idea that she might be a grandmother soon. That she has a daughter-in-law.”

A daughter, for a woman who lost hers so long ago.

The fact that their marriage isn't real doesn't even cross their minds. In this moment, they are husband and wife, and right now this is one of those “for worse” moments they mentioned in their vows. She’s going to uphold that promise come hell or high water.

“You can tell her now,” Scully says, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “She might not hear you, but it's still good to talk to her.”

“She always wanted me to get married,” he says. “She said I needed to move on, to have my own family. Stop thinking about the one I lost. I hated her for that. I couldn't understand how she could give up on our family. How she’d think I could replace it, like a worn out pair of sneakers.”

“Mulder…”

“I understand now, Scully. That was never what she was telling me to do. I think– I think she just wanted me to be happy.”

She wipes the wetness from his cheek with her thumb, holding her hand there and cupping his jaw. He looks up at her, eyes gleaming in adoration. Then he stands, leaning over his mother and holding her hand in his. 

“Mom, I am happy,” he says. “I'm so happy. I just want you to be here to see it. To meet Scully again and our child, someday when we have one. Please…”

He bows his head, another wave of fresh tears filling his eyes.

“I still don't understand,” he says. “why she would do this…”

“I looked at her chart earlier,” Scully says. “Your mother is suffering from a disease known as Paget's Carcinoma. It's a horribly painful and disfiguring disease, Mulder. She didn't want to live.”

“But she has to!” he says, insistent. “She has to, at least for a little longer… I want to talk to her.”

“I know you do,” she says. “But there's nothing we can do until she wakes. 

“She was going to tell me something. What did she want to tell me, Scully?” he looks to her, his eyes pleading. She wishes she knew, so she could take away his burden. But she doesn't, so she just holds him as he sobs into her shoulder, and comforts him.

-.-.-

She's roused from her uncomfortable sleep in the hospital chair by none other than Walter Skinner. Mulder is fast asleep still in his own chair, his face pressed against the scratchy blankets of his mother's hospital bed.

“The case is heating up,” Skinner says, whispering so as not to wake Mulder. “The LaPierres are asking for him. I know it's probably not a good time, but—”

“No, it’s fine,” she says, surprising even herself by agreeing with him. “He needs to get away. From what I'm told, she's stable but not likely to wake anytime soon. The drugs are still making their way out of her system. Can you book us both a ticket?”

“Of course. I'll be coming as well, the Bureau needs this one wrapped up,” Skinner says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Should I get you one room or two at the motel?”

At first, Scully isn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “...Sir?” she asks. “You know we're not…”

“I know,” he says. “I just wasn't sure if you'd want to… keep an eye on him.”

It’s nice of him to ask, she supposes. The answer is yes, she would like to keep an eye on him, actually. But even this isn’t enough for her to forsake the appearances they’ve worked so hard to keep up these last few months.

“Two is fine,” she says with finality.

Skinner nods, and disappears the way he came.

-.-.-

She feels sick, standing in a field littered with tiny graves.

What makes her even more sick is seeing how desperately Mulder hopes to find his sister in each one they dig up. It's written plainly on his face, and she sees him sink deeper into himself with each one that doesn't match her description.

He just wants this to be over. He wants to move on, and she can't blame him. 

But after all this time, she really does wish there could be a happier ending. The one he'd hoped for for so long, where he rides off into the sunset with his sister in tow. Somewhere along the way, she'd begun to hope for that too.

And somewhere along the way, he'd stopped.

She tries to get him to come back to Washington with her and Skinner, but her efforts are in vain. He stays, swindled by some self-proclaimed police psychic who claims he can help find Amber Lynn LaPierre, who also was never identified amongst the other victims.

She leaves him, promising to check in on his mother and let him know how she's doing. But of course, her worry for him won't let sleeping dogs lie.

She pokes around, digging into his regression hypnosis recordings. She even visits Mrs. Mulder's home, looking for what? She isn't sure.

But she finds it.

Burnt documents putting an end to the search for Samantha in 1973. 

And the initials C.G.B.S.

~~~

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[serotonins-stuff]

LIES | I.MIDORIYA

♡︎ warnings: mentions of being hospitalized + kisses

♡︎ Sypnosis: Your boyfriend Izuku pushes you away after failing to save you during a villain attack

♡︎ Genre: Contains a whole bunch of angst and some fluff with a happy ending!

♡︎They are aged up is this

"I'm fine, so you don't have t-"

"Do you expect me to believe that Izuku?" You furrowed your brows and crossed your arms angrily. "You're not ok, but you keep pushing yourself and you're starting to reach your limit".

You were standing in the doorway of the small apartment he recently started living in. He moved here to supposedly keep you from any danger.

He never even came to visit you. Too busy saving Japan with all the crime going on lately. After the enormous incident happened in the country and he got hospitalized along with many civilians and heroes. He felt as if it was his fault this whole time -like he could have been stronger or even faster.

He felt guilty for not being able to protect everyone and most importantly he felt terrible for putting your life in danger as well.

When he found out you were in the same hospital as him-he couldn't take it. He told himself he had to stay away to keep you safe, so that's exactly what he did.

He couldn't even recognize himself anymore. barely able to muster a smile or even so much as look you in the eye. He didn't enjoy this version of himself either. It brought back bad high school memories that would be better forgotten.

"Why are you doing this?" You teared up, your voice cracking when you stared up into his emotionless eyes "Why are you putting yourself through so much pain and pushing everyone away?!"

You inched closer to him, outstretching your arms to give him warmth- to give him someone to lean on. He dismissed your kindness by taking a step back, and you felt your heart crack. You couldn't read the expression his eyes held because they were casted to the ground, draped by his growing green locks.

"Why won't you touch me anymore?" You wept, allowing your hands to fall to your sides while your shoulders twitched violently. "You won't even look me in the eye"

You missed him. You missed his delicate touches and his words of affirmation. You miss his contagious laugh and kind heart. You miss eating ice cream with him from the tub while gossiping about your long day at work.

His hands clasped his pants tightly, and you could see his shoulders trembling as he struggled to talk. "I can't let you get hurt again" he whimpered "I can't fail this city again"

Just by the sound of his voice, you could tell he was hurting. Holding so many pent-up emotions. His tears fell freely, staining the floor beneath him.

"You did everything you could Izuku" You sniffled "You fought till the very end and that's all that matters"

"And I know you're worried about me but I'm fine ok?. My wounds have healed and my body is in peak condition." You moved closer to him again and this time he didn't move back. Cautiously, you lifted your hand to cup his cheek. He winced slightly at the warmth but allowed you anyway, clamping his eyes shut.

"Look at me" you pleaded "please"

How could he look at you when all he could think about was the numerous wires and tubes latched to your body on a hospital bed?

Your finger rubbed his cheek soothingly "it's ok, I'm here"

He raised his head gradually and you could see the way his lip was trembling. Slowly, he opened his eyes, sobbing when he saw the gentle expression on your face.

You were ok.

"I'm sorry" he sobbed louder. "I'm so sorry"

" Shhhhh You have nothing to be sorry about" you sniffled "You are the most kind, caring and selfless person I know. You're always putting others first even if it means risking yourself"

"But I need you to take a break Izuku, I need you to be selfish just this once" you grabbed him into a safe hug. "I need you to come home so I can take care of you"

He was a mess right now. An apologizing mess while he listened to your sweet words, clasping you tightly.

"I just wanted to protect everyone" he wiped his tears.

"The other heroes are taking care of that ok?" You reassured him. "Right now you need to take a break"

He pulled back from you slightly, and you did the same. Gazing into each other's glassy eyes as you smiled. Before you knew it you leaned into one another, sharing a long and passionate kiss. A kiss that revealed exactly how much you missed each other, a kiss that held so many mixed but powerful emotions.

How could he ever think about pushing you away when you were the light of his life?. When you stuck with him even at the toughest times. Heck-he doesn't even know where he'd be without you.

"I missed you so much" he pulled away, your faces wet with each other's tears "And I'm sorr-"

You cut him off with another kiss. Not wanting to hear another apology from him ever again.

"I missed you more "

_______

The end

---------

A/n

Thank you to everyone for all the love and support!

It warms my heart to see many of you appreciating my work.

Requests are open!