#i have lost the ability to proofread and know if i like what i wrote sdfkjdsfj

[fireflysymphony]

Aventurine w a fem! bodyguard reader smut... 👀

Aventurine x fem! bodyguard reader

MDNI 18+ content ahead

A/N: thank you for the request! I really like the concept. I wrote it as a mix of headcanons and a quick drabble at the end. I hope you enjoy it <3

Word count: 2.7k

Content warning: Fem! Reader, slight exhibitionism, pet names, fingering, teasing, praise, needy lovestruck Aventurine, slight degradation, slight begging (on his end), pretty soft sex, Aventurine’s daddy kink strikes again, I have a lack of gun knowledge but just roll with it, not proofread

Headcanons

Let me make this really clear: HE’S not the one who needs protection right now; it’s YOU.

The second he met you he was sizing you up with that cute little smirk of his, making it pretty obvious that all professionalism was lost the very moment he saw such a pretty number was working for him.

You should have run then.

What was the IPC thinking when they hired you for this? Is this some type of wrath from the Aeons? What did you do to deserve this punishment?

From the very beginning, he’s a pain to deal with, but you don’t have the authority to talk back, only giving him tight smiles and apologetic words. He knows this and takes full advantage of the situation.

“Y’know, princess, if you’re going to be with me all the time, shouldn’t I have a prettier view? I don’t like having to leave everything up to the imagination. Do you think red or blue is more your color? Ah~ I’ll buy both.” And you’re sitting there seething as he taps away on his phone, seemingly oblivious to your displeasure. Was he just joking? What was he doing?

The VERY next day you see Aventurine holding up not one but two skin tight dresses with fabric only hiding your more intimate areas. It was more like lingerie than a dress like something you’d see on a stripper.

He evidently wasn’t just teasing you.

As politely as you could, you told him it would hinder your fighting ability if anyone were to attack, so you absolutely couldn’t wear it. He made some futile comment about how he’d love to see you try so he could get a peek up your skirt to, you know, “negate the traumatizing experience of him being attacked.”

In the end, you won the argument, and Aventurine threw a tantrum, muttering something about giving them to a woman who’d actually appreciate a gift like that. You told him straight to his face that he should just give it to the many women he brought to bed each night then.

The surprised and hurt look on his face will forever be carved into your memory.

After that, he actively stopped calling you by his nicknames which, deep inside, you missed, or it might just be the guilt of seeing his usually inalterable flirtatious self turn into a sad kicked puppy of a man. You held onto your pride though and forced yourself to bite back any apology or reconsiderations of his request you may have had. The man should have known your job was on the line, and his insensitive acts of fickle flirtation could not sway you.

The very next day he was up to his usual antics, and you got the impression that he only seemed upset to try to guilt you. Asshole. It only made you more upset with him. Did he like playing with your emotions?

Did I mention he loves it when you say his name? Sometimes he’ll ignore your presence just to hear you say “Mr. Aventurine? Boss?! Sir, I’m talking to you.” In your signature annoyed tone. It makes his heart melt. The only thing he can think of is imagining how your little pants and sighs of his name sound while he’s on top of you. How would you sound if you weren’t constantly annoyed at him? If he brought you pleasure?

Honestly, he was whipped for you from day one, and his actions might sound annoying and overly flirtatious, but that’s just how he shows love.

I could tell you so many things that this man has done for your attention, but that’d probably be the length of the Holy Bible. There are so many places this could go, but I think this instance of his sticks out the most amongst many akin to it.

—

You were used to casinos at this point. The loud blaring sounds of people playing the slot machines and thick, suffocating smell of alcohol were background sensations at this point. You couldn’t even bother to give them a second thought, not when a gun was pointed at the man you were supposed to be protecting. Safe to say the poker game was ruined. Champagne soiled the cards, shards of glass from the glasses littered the floor and table, and Aventurine, stupid Aventurine, had his hands raised in the air, his signature smirk pointed at the assailant like his own brand of deadly weapon.

“Hey, hey, now. This isn’t the place to have one of those, is it? Look, you ruined the cards!” Adventurine laughed, making a circling motion with his hand as if trying to gesture to the table of cards which were now soaked a yellowish brown color. Your hand rested on your gun, ready to fire at any sign of him about to pull the trigger. “Can’t we talk this out? I’m sure with a little persuasion you be happy to hand over-“

Your pistol fired later than his. Shit.

All that registered in your mind was the crying of two men, and Aventurine hunched over with a pained expression as he gripped his stomach. You were trained for this, but in your state of panic, you ran to him instead of making sure the attacker was dead. You scooped him up, struggling to carry him with your gun pointed at the now surrounded shooter while retreating from the casino. You wished you could make sure he was dead, but attending to Aventurine’s injuries were your first priority.

“You idiot. I told you to stop provoking people and look where we are!” You scolded him, Aventurine now quiet and clinging to your shoulders. You were too panicked to question his unusual behavior after just being shot in the stomach. “..If you’re worried, you won’t die. I got you.”

“I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Princess.” He laughed, setting his chin on your shoulder. Sensing something was off, you turned down an alleyway and skidded to a stop. He wasn’t screaming in pain nor were his cheeks stained with tears, even the adrenaline wouldn’t keep him from crying out, right? “I’m surprised it took you this long to catch on. No, I’m not-“

Before he could finish his sentence, you dropped him to the ground before crouching down and lifting his shirt up. No wounds in sight.

“Getting rather intimate, aren’t we? You should give me the chance to do this to you.”

“Shut up! What did you do, Aventurine?!” You demanded, yanking his shirt back down before leaning back on your haunches. He looked satisfied with himself as he shuffled to lean against the alley wall. His hat and glasses were gone, probably from the scuffle. He’d have her go get them later.

“Uh-uh, remember who you’re talking to, beautiful.” He smiled, running his hand through his hair and covering his right eye, the other one illuminating his face well enough to be able to see his features in the darkness. “But since you haven’t figured it out, I simply hired someone to shoot me with a blank which, by the way, hurt like a bitch still. I might still need you to kiss my booboo.”

He saw you were about to open your mouth again and placed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “And before you ask: I replaced your bullets with blanks too, so you didn’t shoot an innocent man. I’m not that cruel.”

“You’re cruel to me.” You murmured, knocking his hand away from your face. He smiled and gave you a little shrug, just like a mischievous toddler who was proud when he colored on the walls. “You're impossible. I can’t believe I was actually worried for your life!”

“Worried? I make crazy bets all the time, princess. Gambling my life is no strange feat to me, you should know this.” He smiled again, this time actually touching your lips with the tip of his finger. Your lips parted, the fabric of his gloves sending you spinning. How soft were his actual fingers? What did they look like under those gloves? Were they long, slender, and delicate, or did they have some edge to them, all calloused and rugged? You imagined the former; Aventurine didn’t do much. “But, I have a pretty good hand right now. I bet you won’t stop me from playing it and showing you my cards.”

“But you’re gambling with my feelings too. That’s different. I don’t like being used.” You steadied yourself against the wall, trying to rid your mind of thoughts about his hands. Wait, when did he get so close? You were backed against the wall now, Aventurine caging you there with his lanky form.

“And I’ll make it up to you, just relax, babydoll. I just needed to be close to you. I couldn’t take it anymore.” He placed his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut. His hand fit perfectly with her cheek as if their bodies were crafted for each other. You weren’t so sure, but the way you were feeling right now wasn’t professional.

“Let me take care of you instead for a chance.” He left featherlight kisses on your forehead, trailing down the side of your face. Each kiss grew longer than the last, his lips unable to pull away from you. He cupped both of your cheeks, his lips nearly touching yours as he spoke. “You aren’t pushing me away. I did all this for a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. Now the IPC can’t punish you if you indulge a little. Please, pretty girl, let me have this. Let me have you.”

You shuddered from his warm breath on your mouth, months of his teasing and antics festering inside you. Defeat was so easy in this moment, the taste of another person’s lips a fleeting memory ever since you got this job. His constant advances would only get worse the more you rejected him. Aventurine always got what he was due. Always. Whatever it be you warming his bed one night or taking you in the back of an alleyway, he’d get it. Deep down, you loved being chased, but now the hunter finally cornered its prey.

“Not again. Never again after this, okay? One time so you make it fucking count.” You grabbed him by his shirt collar, smashing your lips against his, the taste of champagne filling your mouth. He knew what he was doing and held the back of your head, tangling his fingers with your hair. Your actions caught him off guard though; he prepared for the crushing reality of you pushing him away, but you didn’t. Now he just needed to act like he knew you wouldn’t all along.

The softness of his lips lulled you into a daze, your hands aching from how tight you held onto him. Each time he pulled back for a breath, you didn’t give him much time to rest before your lips were on his again, asking for more which he provided with no hesitance. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, taking the delicate flesh between his teeth and playing with it before letting his tongue mold into yours.

“Someone’s a little needy. I could tell by the way you act that you’re pent up, but this is bad.” He fully pulled away with his face flushed, binding your wrists together and holding them above your head with one hand. He left open mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. Not bothering to waste anymore time, he used his teeth to free your chest from the buttons of your blouse. “Fucking me in an alleyway like this? You must have wanted me from the beginning. Please say you’ve always wanted me, pretty girl. Please… please… fromday one, I’ve always needed you…”

He pulled down your bra with his teeth, kissing and sucking at your breasts with a hunger similar to that of a starving man. His tongue flicked over your delicate buds, moaning at the feeling of your warmth in his mouth. You were starting to think he was right. He acted like he really did need you. As you saw him buried in your chest, eyes filled with lust and desire, all your second thoughts faded to dust.

“Mr. Aventurine…” You tugged on his hair, blond locks soft as the finest silk. Of course he was soft and so delicate; he felt like he could break with one wrong move from you. How was he so torturous and annoying yet the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?

Aventurine’s heart stopped at the sound of your whiny cry of his name. The sound he’s been craving was more beautiful than he could have ever thought.

“I got you, my princess. You’re so beautiful, so fucking gorgeous.” He held up his free hand to his lips, biting at the fabric a few times before getting a hold of the glove and slowly pulling it off. He kept eye contact with you as he did, giving you the impression he was trying to be seductive about it. Before you could say anything about it though, he was already back to your body, hands roaming down to the waistband of your pants.

Within moments, your pants and undergarments were bunched at your knees, and Aventurine got straight to abusing your clit, your already slick folds acting as the perfect lube. “You’re so wet for me. What a naughty, naughty girl you are. So bad, you couldn't hold back that professional facade for long. Were your panties always dripping when you got home? Did you touch yourself and think about me doing this? What a fucking slut.”

He chuckled and collected the slick before shoving a single finger into you, letting out a louder moan than you. He loved the way you felt around him, how tight you were squeezing just one finger. “Fuck… so tight. Can you even take another?” He managed to get another finger into you, stretching you out as he twisted deeper inside of you. He worked at a slow pace while also kissing your neck and chest, selfishly leaving marks in his wake. Eventually, he sped up, losing himself as he pounded into you with another finger.

Your body convulsed, hiccuping in pleasure. “Fuck! Fuck! S-sir-! Shit, I’m gonna- gonna...” You leaned your head on his shoulder, biting down hard to silence your moans and other noises. What had been but five minutes, and you were already falling apart.

“So fast and easy. Cum then, you fucking whore, cum all over daddy’s fingers.” He demanded, slamming his fingers deeper inside of you. You threw your head back, crying out profanities you hope nobody passing by heard. Your walls clenched around him, a wave of pleasure crashing through your body as you coated his fingers in your pleasure.

“There you go, just like that. You feel so good squeezing my fingers like that, good girl.” He pulled out of you after helping you come down from your high, his long, slender fingers covered in your release. He didn’t waste any time in getting rid of the evidence, moaning at your taste as he licked himself clean. “So good, I love you…”

He hoped you didn’t hear that last part, biting his lip to silence the words he just spoke. Thankfully, you looked too dazed to care. If you brought it up later, he’d tease you until you didn’t think it happened.

He let go of your wrists and embraced you, cradling your head against his chest and letting you put yourself back together. He kissed your forehead, mumbling any praises he could think of in your ear. He wanted to savor this moment because in a few minutes, he knew he’d be pushed away again. No matter how good he made you feel; you’d make it clear to him that you’d never fall for one of his traps again. That’s just the woman you were, and he didn’t make bets he knew he couldn’t win.

A/N: this kinda got out of hand, and Aventurine bangs his bodyguard turned into Aventurine becomes a menace (again). If anyone likes this, I’d be happy to make a part two with more detail on how they got together. I apologize to the requester if this isn’t what you had in mind, but I still hope you enjoyed it! <3

Requests are open!

[thealbatrovss]

take my hand // wolverine x reader

summary: it’s probably a good thing logan doesn’t involve himself in school projects, you learn

basically: logan destroys school property but gets a date

oneshot-fluff, this is just fluff. suggestive material. flirting, a bunch of that. cringe but I am free! Not proofread I apologize

-probably ooc idk but i haven’t written anything in YEARS so this is a practice one for me. Enjoy!!! More fics to come.

word count: 1k+

masterlist

Persistent knocking on your bedroom door woke you out of an afternoon slumber gone on way too long.

“Shit!” The alarm on the stand read 7:15pm. You fell to the floor, tangled up in your own sheets. The wooden boards beneath connected to your forehead. You winced, peeling your face from the floor. “Fuck!”

You could hear Logan’s muffled voice from the other side of the door. “Are we going or not?”

“Of course!” You shout, shaking numb legs out from the covers. Trying to stand up took a few tries but you eventually got there.

Logan stood with one hand against the wall and one on his hip as the door opened. A stream of smoke trailed from the cigar nestled between his teeth. You wondered what it would be like to kiss him senseless, letting the smoke permeate your clothing, lips, everything. But you were just friends. Well, friends that also found a way to flirt in most situations.

“What the hell was that?” He cocked an eyebrow, leaning to look over your shoulder into your room, noticing the disheveled bed. “Got someone in there or something?”

“Yep” You went along with it. You turned towards your open window, dramatically sighing. “Looks like you just missed them.”

“I'm sure that’s exactly what happened here.” His lips turned upwards. It was hard not to get lost in his gaze.

“Lost inside that head of yours again?” His thumb slid over a small cut on your forehead that quickly healed itself over due to your mutant abilities. He smiled, his hand lingering on your cheek for a little bit longer. Like he was holding on to a moment. “There you are.”

You tried to hide the way he made you feel by straightening out your clothing. “I completely spaced out. Fell asleep going through Hank’s notes. By the way, did you know he wrote poetry?”

“Hank?”

“Yeah. He must have mixed it in with the papers he gave me earlier. It’s very good.”

“Great. Now you'll be serenading me with poems about science and shit all night.” No sarcasm oozed off him, he was dead serious. “As soon as we get to that party, I’m heading straight for the booze.”

Your eyes widened. You were still running late. “Orono is going to kill me.” You both started down the hallway, your pace out matching his for once.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m late too.”

You grinned at the nickname, walking backwards to face him. “You wouldn’t be, I don’t know, avoiding this night because you were supposed to help and didn’t?”

He shook his head. “Look, I didn’t agree to work here just to end up becoming a gardener.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have destroyed the old one in the first place.”

“Hey,” he pointed his cigar at you, “it’s not my fault those government bastards decided to sneak in through the greenhouse. I can’t always choose my battle grounds.”

You looked at where his claws came out. “Those plants never stood a chance against you.”

“Nope.”

The way he said it so casually made you laugh out loud. “They were only asking for an hour of our time. Once a week.”

The greenhouse blossomed with life upon entering the new scenery. He took another drag of the cigar, embers floating through the air. “Well, would you look at that. Seems like they did just fine without me.”

You could feel the smoke on your face. “Wow, such a team player.” Logan laughed at that.

Ororo’s end of the year project with the entire student body was finally finished. A brand new, beautiful garden for mutants to study, take care of, and admire lay before them. Hopefully Logan could keep himself from destroying this one.

“It’s so pretty.” Your fingers lingered on a rosebush nearly blossomed. “Ororo really outdid herself.”

“She always does.” Logan put out his cigar, making sure to avoid the plant life.

Strings of light zigzagged overhead, a soft glow of white and yellow hues going nicely with the greenery. A large water fountain stood in the middle of the encasing plants creating a fork in the road. The pillar in the middle of the fountain had multiple hands reaching out from the center, as if they were beckoning for those below them to take their hand.

Voices came from the very far side of the greenhouse. You could hear your friends' and fellow X Mens laughter all the way from here. It would just be the teachers and staff tonight. The students will get to see the final results tomorrow.

“Fancy stuff.” Logan stopped in front of the large structure. “But doesn’t this seem a bit over the top?”

“I’m pretty sure this was the Professor's idea.”

“Of course it was.”

“I kinda like it. Feels very symbolic.”

He tapped on one of the white marbled hands with the back of his knuckle. “Sounds hollow. How about that symbolism?” But apparently that was a little too hard. One of the fountains arms gave away from the crack Logan made, and splashed into the water below. He stumbled trying to cover up the place where he chipped off the art piece. His feet ended up in the pool of water.

“Do you have some sort of grudge against this place?” You held in your laughter as best as you could.

He groaned, rolling up his sleeves. “Stupid thing.”

You tried to think of anything but him at that moment. But of course that always fell through. Wet skin shimmered against the last fading rays of sunlight. Strains of dark hair stuck to his furrowed forehead as he searched the water below.

“Oh come on, it can’t be that hard to find.” You shook yourself out of those thoughts.

His hazel eyes landed firmly on you. “It’s stuck.”

“What? How?”

“I don’t know, but if I pull it out, I’ll definitely break more than just the arm.”

You sat down at the fountain's edge and dipped your arm in all the way up to the elbow, curious as to how this could of happened. “It’s fucking freezing. Did Bobby have anything to do with this?” Before you could even begin to look a hand dunked your head into the water with a surprising gentleness. You gasped as you came up for air.

Logan held the broken arm up towards you, smirking at his actions. “Got it.” He wiggled it in front of your face for extra effect. “You didn’t need to do all that but I admire the desperation.”

You didn’t let him relish in the moment and splashed waves of water into his face. Beads of liquid clung to his mutton chops, the sweetest smirk clinging to his lips. He licked them, spitting out water. “Deserved.”

He offered the broken statues hand towards you, and you gladly took it. Stumbling a little too close, your chests nearly touching, the only thing separating you both was the broken piece of marble. The quiet laughter quickly faded as you stared back at each other. Your breathing quickened, the marble arm cool against your skin dripping with water. His white tank top was soaked, accentuating his upper body.

“We should try and reattach the arm.” Your voice was just barely above a whisper. “Do you think they’ll notice. Oh god, they’ll noice, won’t they?”

And then Logan gave you the softest smile you’d ever seen. Like there was a secret just between the two of you. He delicately moved pieces of wet hair from your face, as gently as wind blew leaves off the pavement. “And how do you think we do that?” A breeze ruffled your cold frames, but you could only feel a blazing warmth coil within.

The intense yet intimate moment was broken by the sound of Ororo sighing from behind you. “Well, you can start by getting out of the water and giving me that.”

Logan and you shrank from each other, hopping out of the cold water. He held his head high, putting the broken object into her hand. “Sorry about that.”

She put her hands on her hips.

“Again.” He finished. As he stepped back, his shoulders brushed yours. He never once bothered to move. You were more than happy to stand in that awkward yet sweet moment.

Ororo brought the marble hand up to her forehead, shaking her head. “Will you two just date already, this is getting exhausting.” She walked away, murmuring to herself about Logan’s “great” hospitality skills.

The two of you stood there, letting the water drip to the stone beneath. Logan shook his wet hair, trying to light his cigar. “You can ask me out tomorrow.” Is all he said, walking away, leaving a smoke trail towards the mini bar.

All you did was smile so hard you could feel your teeth hurt.

[callalillywrites]

His Scarred Omega Part 4

Part 3 / Series Masterlist

Relationship: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Word Count: ~1900

Summary: Bucky celebrates his first Halloween with his daughter and Omega.

Warnings: insecure Omega, flirty Bucky, flirty Jake, sappy-happy Bucky

A/N: I wrote this story really fast as I mentioned above. It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own.

I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

With Halloween growing ever closer, Bucky invites Omega and Gracie to a friend’s place for a family-friendly party. Jake’s assured Bucky his niece would be there, someone Gracie’s own age as well as some others to keep them from being too bored. Steve also promises there will be plenty of homes they can trick-or-treat from, giving Gracie something else to look forward to.

Bucky can’t help taking several pictures of Gracie in her costume. (Omega managed to divert her away from the Harley Quinn costume and into something a bit more kid appropriate.)

He also snaps a couple of Omega when she isn’t looking to save on his phone.

Gracie’s now going as cute little witch. Her blue eyes are sparkling with a bit of help from her mischievous nature, so like his own, and some eyeshadow that Omega helps her put on. The costume’s light-up abilities really sold themselves when Omega presented it to Gracie as did Bucky’s endorsement of the costume.

“You look beautiful, sweet girl,” he assures her when she does a final spin for him.

“What about Auntie? She looks nice, too, doesn’t she?”

Bucky glances at Omega and nods. His lips quirk into a small grin as he takes in the Greek goddess dress she’s put on. She’s added a few golden adornments she’s made to complete her look along with some golden accent makeup that makes her face glow.

“No, I think nice isn’t the right word, sweet girl. I think the word we need for this moment is beautiful or maybe breathtaking. What do you think?”

Omega’s cheeks are heating at his praise though she’s shaking her head at him even as a smile makes her that much more stunning in his eyes.

Gracie eventually breaks through the spell casting around them as she agrees with Bucky.

Omega is doing her best not to let Bucky’s flirting get to her. There’s no way in the world he can ever be interested in her, not after everything with Dot. Besides, she knows he’s just being nice to keep himself in her good graces where Gracie is concerned.

She can tell he’s gearing up to ask for a weekend with Gracie that includes an overnight at his place. As much as Omega isn’t sure she’s ready for that, she also knows that Bucky and Gracie are growing closer to one another. It’s only natural he wants more time with his daughter, especially with so much time he’s already lost with her.

To get them back on safer ground, Omega steers the conversation back on track by saying, “I think Bucky looks quite the pirate, don’t you, Gracie? Looks like he could take over a ship in the harbor and sail away any moment.”

Bucky grins at that. “I’d never sail anywhere without my best girls at my side. Gonna need someone to make sure I don’t get seasick, you know.”

“Somehow, I doubt you get seasick. Those legs of yours look sturdy enough to handle even the roughest seas.”

It hits Omega a second later what she’s said, her cheeks heating further with the tips of her ears and neck joining in, too.

Bucky, thankfully, doesn’t comment further on her obvious embarrassment, but then, the weird connection they share between them tells her he’s quite flattered at her appreciation of his legs. Neither of them still have a clue why this connection exists between them, but they have slowly come to accept it over the last couple of weeks.

Soon enough, they’re heading towards Jake’s home with Steve and Angel.

Gracie doesn’t stop asking questions about his friends and Jake’s niece. Her hope of gaining a new friend is quite palpable as she’s been struggling in school to accomplish the same. Then again, it’s harder to make friends when you’re dumped in a new school after the start of the year.

Bucky’s certain she’ll find her footing soon enough as she’s only been in the school a couple of weeks.

He’s been checking in with her teacher about how she’s doing, something he’s been able to do since Omega added him to Gracie’s file. Sure, he’s only added as an emergency contact, but he’s hoping that will change to full guardianship soon enough alongside Omega’s name.

According to her teacher, she’s settling in well enough though she’s still a bit on the quieter side. She’s quite helpful though she does tend to stick to herself rather than branch out, but her teacher is seeing some signs that Gracie is adjusting and reaching out to her classmates, giving Bucky the assurance she’ll be fine.

When Jake’s home comes into view, Bucky can’t help the small smile curling the corners of his lips as he glances at both Gracie and Omega. He can’t wait to show off his daughter to his friends and her sweet Omega aunt.

Angel meets him at the door and immediately smiles at Omega and Gracie.

“Oh, there’s our guests of honor. It’s so nice to see you both again. Come in. Come in. Jake is so eager to meet you both. Plus, his niece just got here and is already bored with us grownups. Would you like to meet her, Gracie?”

Gracie grins at Angel and takes her hand without hesitation.

Bucky motions Omega in after him and manages to lean in to say softly, “You really are breathtaking, Precious.”

Omega doesn’t get the chance to say anything as Steve and Jake converge on them.

Jake earns a deep growl from Bucky when he dares to awkwardly flirt with Omega after their introductions. Rather than be scared though, Jake just shoots Bucky a cheeky grin while holding his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

“Only fair since you flirted with mine when you first met her.”

Omega arches a brow at Bucky then. “So, you have flirted with Angel then?”

“Only to mess with this dork. Angel will never have eyes for another alpha but him.”

Before Omega can get away, he wraps an arm around her waist and tugs her close enough so he can whisper, “Besides, there’s only one omega that has my undivided attention these days.”

“You don’t have to say things you don’t mean, Bucky. Gracie’s already half in love with you as her dad. You don’t have to keep flattering me to win her over.”

The guarded look in Omega’s eyes has Bucky pulling her closer. His free hand cups her cheek, his thumb running over her cheekbone.

“What if I’m trying to win you over, too? What do I need to say or do for you to realize I think you’re the most wonderful, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, Precious?”  

Omega doesn’t know what to say to that. As much as she wants to believe Bucky, she also can’t help wondering if he’s done this with Dot or any number of other omegas in the years they’ve lost touch.

Besides that, she knows she’s not like other omegas. She’s definitely no Dot. She’s never pretended to be. Maybe that’s why it’d been so easy for her future alpha to claim Dot while she’d been working hard for their future and Gracie’s. Doesn’t mean the betrayal doesn’t hurt any less though.

Can she trust another alpha to not hurt her again? Can she trust Bucky?

She’s still waiting for him to decide he’s done enough to claim Gracie through the courts and sever any connections she has with Gracie. It’s something she’s seen happen before, and she can’t handle the thought of losing the last member of her family.

It takes her a moment longer than it should’ve to feel and recognize the deep rumble pouring out of Bucky and into her. His hold on her tightens as he does his best to soothe the dark thoughts swirling within her.

This darn connection between them is proving quite maddening. It’s giving her hope where she shouldn’t have any. Bucky, for all intents and purposes, will forever belong to Dot because of Gracie. It’s a futile hope for Omega to think that she can ever compete with Dot’s memory or believe she can wriggle into his heart where she wouldn’t mind being.

It’s all his fault, too.

The constant flowers every weekend he spends with her and Gracie. Doing his best to spoil her as much as he does Gracie on their outings. He’s never failed to buy her something wherever they go, especially something she eyes while they’re there. He never fails to defer to her judgment where Gracie is concerned, too, wanting to make sure he never oversteps.

And hundreds of other tiny things he’s done for her and Gracie since they bumped into him that day.

In just these few short weeks, he’s managed to turn her crush into something so much deeper, and she’s not sure she can or wants to be mad about it.

“Will you and Gracie come back to my place tonight? I have something I want to show you.”

“All our stuff is back home,” she whispers, the only excuse she can latch onto to deny him.

He simply smiles against her skin. She can feel it as he presses the softest kiss to her hair that she’s ever experienced in her life. It’s enough to weaken her resolve and her knees.

“I’ve been preparing for this, Precious. You and Gracie will have everything you need for a single night away.”

“I’ll consider it,” she says before Steve comes to check on them at Angel’s behest.

The rest of the evening, Omega manages to keep Bucky at arm’s length for her sanity. She spends as much time as she can helping Angel out between serving up food and keeping the few kiddos out of trouble.

Gracie and Jake’s niece end up hitting it off so well that both are already begging for sleepovers and other playdates together.

True to Steve’s word, the neighborhood ends up being one of the best trick-or-treating locations with almost all the houses offering candy to the kids traveling between the houses. Some even go so far as to offer up some small but creative haunted houses for the kids to shriek and laugh their way through.

It’s in one of these that Bucky finally gets the chance to have Omega at his side once again. His hand remains firmly interlaced with hers as they see all the spooky sights, tightening in the few instances where a jump scare lands successfully. Hearing Omega’s small yelps and her other hand wrapping around his arm puffs him up in ways he never thought to feel again. It’s definitely intoxicating and something he wants to experience over and over again.

When they finally return to Jake’s home, Gracie can barely keep her eyes open.

Bucky’s carrying her while Omega has her sack of candy.

“You have fun, sweet girl?”

Gracie nods against his neck, a huge yawn escaping. “Do we have to go home?”

“Yeah, we do, but I promise you’ll see your new friend again soon. Auntie and I’ll make sure of it.”

“I love you, Daddy,” she says as sleep claims her.

Bucky’s knees nearly buckle as tears of pure joy blur his vision. He brings his hand up to rub at her back as he whispers back, “I love you, too, my sweet girl. Always and forever.”

*****

Main Masterlist

[zairene]

reconciliation, izuku midoriya x black female reader

synopsis: after breaking up with izuku midoriya, he stands at your doorstep months later seeking the care that you once had given him.

wc: 1.1k

a/n: a rewritten & improved version of a fic i wrote on my old page before i deleted it. i tried revising parts that i couldn’t remember but think of this as the better version of the last one. could be turned into a mini series to rebuild their relationship, if this does well enough that is. + not proofread, mistakes might be here and there

SOMEHOW, SOMETIME AGAIN, izuku finds himself right in front of your apartment complex. the bruises and scars on his skin submerged his body as if he were drowning. and the only thing that could possibly be racing through his mind is you. all the time that you both spent apart only made him realize how dependent he had became on how much you cared about him.

things didn’t work out between you two. izuku had the tendency to put his life in great peril in order to shield his loved ones from the reality of the world surrounding them. however, the idea that his life being taken away from him would cause a greater impact on the people he loved, and that it wouldn’t be seen as a heroic act but more so an unfortunate circumstance. once he came to the realization that being prone to making sacrifices wasn’t healthy, he had to go on the journey regain self control. to assist him in becoming fully aware of his worth as a person.

he seemed to not know that his life matters too. and you breaking up with him made him notice his damaging lifestyle. he had learned that it’s okay to make sacrifices, but also to think about how it would affect those around him. would his life being lost solve all the problems that were present or create more?

this brings him back to the present.

the loud crack of thunder had made him flinch, and gave him the ability to make his way to your front door. he held his head down and his arms swung by his side. he felt embarrassed. he felt stupid. it had been months since you both last talked. why would you open your house to him after everything he’s put you through?

his left hand balled into a fist, ready to knock on your door. as soon as he did, he stood waiting. seconds later, the door opened and there you stood. his eyes landed on your figure. your eyes had bags under them, your hand was fiddling with your bonnet which was slipping slightly. you froze in your spot, taking in the sight. you didn’t expect to see the man you broken up with back on your doorstep at 2 in the mornings.

“oh my god��” the only words you could seem to verbalize out before ushering him into your house. you sat him down on your couch, going to grab bandages and the appropriate medicine to help him heal even after he left your house. you came back to see that he had made himself more comfortable yet still having a troubling look on his face.

you sit down quiet close next to him setting everything in your hand on the table in front of him. you began to take care of his wounds. you scanned his body, searching for wounds you could treat successfully so he could go to a clinic for the worst ones that may require antibiotics for how deep the stab wounds were.

your started to wipe blood off of his hands and fingers and around the cuts of his wounds, wrapping it with bandages. you both hadn’t said a word, he just sat in the still of the place you considered a home.

“i shouldn’t be doing this to you,” izuku said. you look at him and sigh with uncertainty. you didn’t know how to respond to a statement like that. “this isn’t your responsibility. i’m still wondering why you even helped me.” he continued.

“i still feel obligated to help you, midoriya. i can’t turn you away looking like this, no matter what time it is.” his heart ached at you using his last name, the last time you both were involved you were on a first name basis. now it felt like the both of you were back at square one.

“i can’t help but feel guilty.”

“for what? needing help? that’s my job.” to you, he sounded absolutely ridiculous right now.

“no, for taking advantage of the fact i need help to get you to talk to me now.” you were stunned. in a way, he was right. but you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. it return back to his reticent attitude. trying not to make the situation as bad as it already felt. you were finally done with the things you could treat. to the rest he was on his own, he didn’t mind as most of his pain went away. maybe it was the adrenaline. maybe he just didn’t care about it at the moment. he didn’t even know himself.

he muttered a measly thank you, as he walked past you, ready to leave your house assuming that you didn’t want him there. you bit your lip, thinking about speaking. his hands fiddled with your doorknob but then he finally got a grip on it. the sound of your door opening had triggered your body to turn around.

“izuku, wait.” he stopped, and closed your door again, avoiding rain to get inside your house. he looked back at you. you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him, giving him a hug.

at first, he was stiff. he didn’t hug back, he was more surprised than anything. not at the fact you used his first name again but that you hugged him. all the feelings that he managed to push away came rushing back in that one moment. tears pricked at his waterline and his arms wrapped around yours. he squeezed you slightly.

“i still care about you, m’kay?” you whispered into his ear, his head nodded in response. you pulled back to see that he had a few tears running down his face. he looked away in embarrassment as red hues coated his face. you chuckled slightly, putting both of your hands on his cheeks. you used your thumb to wipe his tears away.

“i’m not mad at you. i never was. i just… get worried about your well-being sometimes.” he nodded.

“i know. me too.” a smile came on his face.

“stay safe. and remember i’m here for you regardless of anything we went through. alright?”

“alright.” you both shared a brief hug again before he left your house. you felt a huge weight had been lifted off of your heart. sure, a long talk between you both was was long overdue. but knowing that you both were on speaking terms again gave you some hope for the future.

TAGLIST FORM

[kodydrs]

you want some - porco galliard

a/n: I LIVE!! ok. Attack on titan has my heart, and I literally wrote this when I was about 14 and saw Galliard in the manga, but this is the like, new and improved version. in this, all the scouts are spiders, and idk why. but i head-canon that eren would have spitting spider like abilities, and levi would be a camel spider bc they’re known the cut through their prey. i hope everyone has a nice day and why not reply / reblog, or send in an ask or request.

warnings: venom!porco x spider!reader, porco x fem!reader, reader has invisibility powers, and her mask consists of his pupils disappearing, spiderinamn au, kirstein!reader, have a nice day, not proofread. I am drunk and high when i write this

request: yes / no

ib: none

‘You find anything?’ Jean asked, dangling from his web. You swung between the buildings, sticking to one to reply.

‘Nothing useful. There’s just a bunch of old debris from that attack years ago. Still no life or anything.’ You could hear your brother grumble, the noise muffled by his mask, but the annoyance still filtering through.

‘I could’ve sworn this was the way Zeke went. Damnit.’ You stood in silence as he argued with himself.

‘Oi. There’s no point getting worked up. Just keep searching. I’ll go check Liberio , then meet you back here in 30 minutes.’

‘Yeah whatever.’ You rolled your eyes. If Jean was good at anything, it was complaining. He watched as you slowly blended into the environment, making the most of your chameleon-like ability.

‘You need to stop acting like such a baby.’

‘Like you can talk.’ When there was no reply, Jean realised you’d already taken your leave. ‘Stupid.’

‘Have you seen anything?’ Armin asked through a small earpiece.

‘Not yet. But I doubt anything is here. It looks so deserted.’

‘Sounds just like your territory.’ Jean teased from his own position. ‘Do a ground search. There’s only so much we can see from the air.’

Usually you’d ignore his ideas, but this one wasn’t bad. Detaching your web, you lowered yourself to the ground, careful not to get caught in the torn up main street. You were right in your assumption. The place was completely deserted, mind a few pests here and there. The only noise was the soft buzz of a store light.

‘Hey Armin. What’s this place’s yearly power use?’ There was a loud crackling noise from the earpiece, followed by silence. ‘Armin? Jean? Either of you there.’ Again, nothing but crackling. ‘Shit. I lost reception.’

You did a scan of the remains of buildings lining the main street, and shot a web towards an only stone one.

Most of the buildings were in a rough state, very few having windows, and even fewer having all 4 walls intact. One thing that did stick out though was that random buildings had lights on, illuminating the street.

‘Why would there be lights on in an abandoned city?’ You thought. Your thoughts were interrupted by a high frequency from the mic.

‘Y/n!’ Armin suddenly shouted.

‘Hey! Why’d you have to shou-‘

‘You need to get out of there right now! Something big is-‘

The mic cut out before he could finish.

‘Hello. Armin. Come in. Something big is what?’ With no reply, you lifted yourself to the top of a building, trying to reconnect. ‘Armin? Hello?!’ With no reply, which meant no signal, you were practically alone. Well, you thought.

The dumpster thrown at you gave him away.

Narrowly dodging the flying rubbish container, you looked in its direction. Nothing. Only the empty alleyway.

‘I know you’re there!’ You shout, hiding in your surroundings. ‘Otherwise, I wasn’t aware Shiga had flying objects.’ When there was no reply, you frowned. Crawling to the edge of the building, you looked down, finding nothing. ‘Damnit.’

As you go to stand, your earpiece crackles once more. ‘-ehind yo-‘ Armin howled before you’re suddenly pushed into the concrete.

‘Shit.’ You think, trying your best to get up, only to have your arms pinned down by a gooey black substance.

‘Don’t even try.’ A raspy voice above you whispers. ‘Nothing gets out of this. Not even spiders.’ You felt a hand grip your head, turning it to look up, and you came face to face with 2 large white eyes, surrounded by the same stuff as what had you trapped.

‘What are you?’ You stammer, trying to keep your confidence. It laughs. An evil laugh.

‘We are Venom.’

‘We? Th-There’s more of you.’

‘Relax.’ This time, the voice is different. Instead of deep and raspy, the creature had a softer voice, with a more comfortable tone. ‘There’s only 2 of us. And I'm a human, just like you.’

You watched as the goo melted away, revealing the face of a man. A man with a strong jaw, but soft eyes. An undeniable attractive face, but you couldn’t say that, even if you wanted to. This guy had been decided as a villain the minute you were attacked. You watched as he stepped out of ‘Venom’, coming closer to you. As well as an attractive face, he was also quite tall. Or, taller than you at least.

‘So, what’s a pretty lady like yourself doing in my home?’ He asked. You still frowning, moving to attack him, but being restrained by Venom. ‘Come on. It’s an easy question. You can’t have wanted anything valuable. There’s nothing here.’

‘Who are you?’ If you couldn’t escape, you’d get as much info as you could before someone else arrived.

‘Who am I? Well, I’m glad you asked. Porco Galliard. And you’ve met Venom.’

‘Unwillingly, but… yes.’ Venom didn’t seem to talk your comment so nicely, pulling your arms in opposite directions. It felt like the symbiote was trying to tear you in half. ‘Ah shit.’

‘Hey. Venom. Quit it.’ Porco said, turning to him.

‘Oh please. Let me tear the spider apart. What’s the point in having her around? Her friends will be here soon.’

‘I’m aware of that, but it doesn’t matter. God. You have terrible people skills.’ If Venom had pupils, you guessed he probably would’ve rolled them. ‘In fact, let her go. What kind of person holds a guest down like that?’ You sighed when the squeeze on your body subsided, and you were able to stand. For a second, you thought about going camo again, but if they’d caught you the first time, what was stopping them from catching you again.

‘Don’t try.’ Porco interrupted your train of thought.

‘What?’

‘You’ve seen him now. He’ll find you.’

You stare at the symbiote for a moment, then move to the blonde's eyes. You felt sympathetic for them both. They were stuck in this shitty city. You were only a visitor. Or, a hostage depending on how you looked at it.

‘So what am I meant to do? Wait here for the rest of my life?’ You ask, tightening the grip on your fists.

‘Well that’s an option-‘

‘No, its not!’ Venom cut in. ‘She’s seen me. I get to eat her now. That was the deal.’

‘No. That’s with bad guys. She isn’t a bad guy.’

‘She’s a spider!’

As the 2 argued, Jean’s voice finally reached a signal.

‘2 minutes. I’m nearly in Liberio now.’

‘Please hurry.’ You whisper.

‘What?’

Looking back at the 2 in front of you, you find 4 narrowed eyes.

‘Oh come on. Look, you’ve scared her now. This is why you need better social skills.’

Opting to not come between the 2 bickering, you shot a web at the next closest building, dragging yourself back. You heard a faint ‘hey’ followed by the sound of walls being grasped, but you don’t look back to see what it is exactly. You had a pretty sure idea, and looking back would slow you down. For now, all you had to focus on was getting out of Liberio. And seeing your brother in the distance was your first sign of luck.

‘I’m perfectly fine, Hange.’ You informed, phone being held to your ear by your shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t even count it as an attack. The guys just wanted to talk.’

Hange Zoe is the Captain of the current Spider-People. It wouldn’t exactly be called an organisation, but they’d found that recent, there was more Spiders than ever. Why exactly, they didn’t know. But regardless, Hange wanted to make sure there was a place for them.

‘Even if you think you’re perfectly fine, you may not be. Come around so we can get someone to check. I don’t care who, as long as it isn’t you or Jean. Preferably, I’d like Armin to check.’

‘I’m not getting anybody to check.’ You argued, storming around your kitchen. ‘If I was dying right now, then I’d be… well… dying.’

You could hear Hange sigh on the other end of the call.

‘Spider’s aren’t invincible, my dear. You of all people should know that-‘

‘And I do! I just…’ Now it was your turn to sigh, dropping your mug and holding your phone properly. ‘I’m fine, Hange. I’ll get Armin to check over me tomorrow. I’m just tired is all.’

The line went silent, the only indication they hadn’t hung up being that the call was still active.

‘First thing tomorrow, get Armin to do a check over. Get some sleep. We’ll take tomorrow.’

They hung up and you stared at the screen for a moment.

All spiders had a canon event of some sort. You could barely call yours recent, and it happened to a lot of spiders at the same time, but a large-scale earthquake in your home town 8 years ago, and watching a 50 metre building come down on your parents did the trick. Did the trick for you and your brother.

You wipe your hands over your face and groan. It’d been a long day.

The pizza that’s been sitting in your fridge for almost a week was practically screaming at you the minute you opened the door. You chucked it on the counter and thought about heating it up for about a second, deciding cold pizza is superior.

‘So you have (eye/colour) eyes?’

You’re blending into the wall and shooting webs before you actually see who the person is.

‘How on earth did you-‘

‘We followed you.’ Venom admits, coming awfully close to your face. ‘We figured it’d be easier to eat you when you’re alone.’

‘He figured that.’ Porco adds. ‘But yes. We followed you.’

You’re clinging to a cupboard door, looking around for ways to get to your apartment door when your phone starts ringing.

‘Shit. Jean.’ You mentally curse.

‘Venom. Back up. Let her answer it.’

You stare at Porco, slowly revealing yourself, and he laughs at the way you’re gripping the cupboard. But he nods towards the phone, mouthing a “pick it up”.

With shaking hands, you take your phone and bring it to your ear.

‘Hey.’ You say.

‘Hey. Hange just texted saying you refused to do a check up. Are you all goods?’

‘Y-yeah. I’m fine. Just tired and a little shaken after today.’ As you’re speaking, you don’t take your eyes off the blonde standing in your apartment, seeing him smirk but obviously listen to your call.

‘Do you want me to come around?’ Porco’s grin melts away instantly, and he shakes his head. The decision was really up to you.

You could’ve said yes. You could’ve gotten your brother to come to your apartment, and both Porco & Venom may have left straight away, but something in you does the opposite.

‘No. But thank you. I’m probably going to have dinner then go to sleep. I’m going to see Armin tomorrow for a check up anyway.’

‘You sure? Ok then. Make sure to look after yourself, Y/n. Call me if you need anything.’

‘Yep. Tell Marco I say hi.’ You ended the call, and watched Porco’s look of surprise as you climbed down from the shelves. ‘You happy?’

Neither he nor Venom speak, and you think for a moment that you’re imagining them there. Until you shoot a web at him to make sure and it sticks to his face, sending him into a fit of trying to get it off.

‘Ok, you are actually here.’

‘Of course, I’m actually here.’ He whines, shaking the webs off him. If he hadn’t broken into your apartment. you might’ve laughed at him, but the circumstances were different. With a bit of your fear dispersing after his reaction, you go back to your pizza, taking a slice of it.

‘You want some?’ You ask, mouth half full. Venom frantically nods, and you smile a little bit. ‘Pizza fan?’

‘He’s a fan of anything with meat on it.’ Porco informs, getting the last of the web away. ‘Just throw it and he’ll grab it.’

You do as told and watch as Venom contorts to catch the food. Your smile stays, and you offer Galliard a piece, but he declines.

‘So why did you follow me?’ You ask casually.

Porco seems to freeze, trying to think of an excuse but Venom chimes in.

‘He thought you were hot. And he never gets any girls in Liberio.’

‘That’s only because there’s no one in Liberio!’

You’re slightly taken back by the confession, but you burst into a fit of laughs. ‘Hey. What’s so funny?’

‘You followed me this far just because of that?’

‘W-Well, like I said, we never get any girls in Liberio, so I think it’s justified.’

You nearly took yourself out laughing so hard. Tears were in your eyes as you fell onto your kitchen floor, clutching your stomach for life. Porco just glared down at you, a dark red tint on his face.

‘I could kill you right now and you’re laughing at me!’

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just too funny.’ You apologise, attempting to stand but falling into another fit of laughter.

Venom grinned at Porco, and Porco just flipped him off.

When you calmed down, you breathed deeply, too exhausted to stand up.

‘Jokes aside, that is really sweet, I guess.’ You pat the spot next to you, and Porco hesitates but takes it. ‘If you hadn’t tried to kill me, that is.’

‘I wouldn’t call it trying to kill you.’ He reasons. ‘More like-‘

‘A shit attempt at flirting.’

‘Will you fuck off?!’

Venom melts into the blond’s back, and it disgusts you at first, but then realise that it could be worse.

A blanket of silence covers the kitchen, you both just staring into space when there’s a knock at your door.

‘Shit.’ You curse, jumping to your feet to answer. ‘Armin?’

‘Y-Yeah. Jean told me you needed a check-in after that thing attacked you.’

‘Yeah, but I was gonna do it tomorrow…’ You only realise then that that thing was sitting in your kitchen. ‘If that’s alright.’

‘It’s probably better to do now, if you don’t mind. I promise it’ll be quick. I just need to do a blood test, then check for any visible wounds or bruises.’

‘Uh. Yep.’ The ‘p’ is stretched out as you open the door, allowing your friend to come in. The minute he’s in, you basically sprint around to check your kitchen. It’s empty.

‘Everything ok, Y/n? You seem on edge.’ Armin asks, sitting up a blood bag.

‘Yeah. Yep. Just fine.’ You answer, rubbing your face again. ‘Do you want some pizza?’

‘As you all know, the festival goes from the main street to the subway. Your job today is to stay on the lookout for anything dodgy, or anything that could harm the mayor and her wife.’ Levi told, looking over the spiders standing in front of him. ‘You are not to engage unless you are certain they are in danger. If you are certain, then you are to report immediately, and keep casualties to a minimum. Understood?’

‘Yes, sir.’

The festival was to celebrate 10 years since the earthquake, and to commemorate those that didn’t make it. The mayor, Historia Reiss, and her wife, Ymir Reiss would give a speech, showing respect for each victim, before travelling around the city to orphanages were children whose parents died were welcomed. Unknown to the public, Ymir Reiss was in fact a Spider, which meant that on days such as the festival, it wasn’t hard for the couple to get that extra bit of protection..

‘How are we meant to know if something is the right level of dodgy?’ Connie asked over the comms-device. ‘I mean, some of us might think that people surrounding the place in pairs is dodgy. We probably look like a damn cult.’

‘Just anything out of the ordinary, I guess.’ Jean replied. ‘Although, a bald guy and a chick stuffing her face is pretty peculiar.’

You all heard Connie send a string of curses are your brother, but you just laughed under your breath.

The event was generally pretty safe. Everyone lost someone, some more than others, so everyone was more of less on the same page about the festival.

‘How did you 2 get stuck together?’ Eren asked, looking at the duo through the crowd. ‘And how come I got stuck with Horseface? Why am I even a pair?’

‘Just focus on the mission, please.’ With Levi’s command, the comms fell quiet.

The day was nearly over, and so far nothing bad had happened. The odd protester here and there, but police were able to deal with them without you needing to step in.

‘All good on my end.’ You checked in. Everyone else replied in the same state. ‘Pretty good year if you ask me.’

‘Nah. Some drunk asked how one of Santa’s elves escaped’ Connie screamed. ‘And then he had the audacity to start singing carols to try lure me in.’

‘Suck it up, Connie.’ You could practically hear Connie fighting the urge to reply, but fighting the Captain seemed to weigh out that option.

‘Hey guys. I got something down the end of the main street.’ Armin reported. ‘I think it’s dormant for now, but I might need someone down there soon.’

‘I’ve got it.’ You replied, slowly pushing your way through the crowd. ‘Can you tell me what it is exactly?’

‘It’s like a black goo.’

You stopped in your tracks, frowning.

‘Come again?’

‘A black goo?’

‘I’ve got a visual.’ Eren added. ‘Definitely ain’t dormant.’

‘Do you need back up?’

‘I might in a minute.’ Without further discussion, Eren decided this was dodgy enough to engage, throwing his mask on and swinging into action.

The minute he moved, the symbiote threw himself off the building, shattering the windows as he propelled towards the spider. Eren grunted when he came into contact, goo covering his arms and immobilising him.

‘Shit.’ He cursed, doing his best to try escape.

‘Surely I can eat this one.’ Venom hissed, inching his face closer towards Eren. ‘There’s plenty of spiders around.’

‘Fuck off.’ The brunette cursed. He tried to shoot a web, only for it to be absorbed into Venom’s body.

‘Come on. I can get it over and done with quickly.’ Venom’s mouth was surrounding his head when it suddenly began choking, grabbing at its neck. Eren took the opportunity, spitting acid into the goo. This time, it melted away and he was able to pull a hand free. Free enough that he was able to latch onto another building and pull himself out of the symbiote.

‘Thanks, Y/n.’ You stayed clinging to Venom, arms wrapped around where she knew Galliard was inside of him.

‘H-Hey. Time out.’ The blonde shouted, voice muffled. You loosened your grip, still holding them both.

‘Get the fuck out of here before we kill you.’ You whispered. Venom grunted, but you suspected it may have been Porco instead. As you went to pull your arms away, the organism wrapped around your arms, pulling you into it.

‘I’m gonna need backup.’ You said over your air piece before Venom ripped it out of your ear.

‘You can eat this one, Venom.’ Porco smirked. You winced, feeling the symbiote’s teeth curl around your arm. Just as you thought it was about to bite your arms off, a blinding light cut through his body, eliciting a deafen screech from Venom.

‘You brat.’ Levi degraded as he swung past, cutting through Venom again. You felt as it pulled you away, keeping a hold until it dropped into an empty street.

Venom unravelled, leaving Galliard standing there.

‘Long time, no see-‘

‘Get out of here.’ You hiss, urging him away. ‘If Levi catches you, you’re dead.’

Whether he believed you or not, he sprinted off, disappearing as the other spiders came down the street.

‘Where did it go?’ Jean asked, obviously ready to kill the thing that attack his sister.

‘I’m not sure, sorry.’ You say, hands on hips and out of breath. ‘It dropped me and disappeared. I didn’t see where.’

‘I’ll go find-‘

‘Leave it for now.’ Hange decided. ‘It seemed to have no intention of harming anyone other than us. And we have no idea what it is, so until then, we keep on looking out for it. Return to post until Historia and Ymir are done, then return to base.’

‘Yes, Captain.’

Your apartment was quiet when you got home. Lights were off apart from the one in the kitchen.

‘Please say you chucked the pizza- what are you doing?’ You said, acknowledging the blonde sitting on your kitchen floor.

‘I’m having withdrawals.’ He whined. taking another swig of his can. You just laughed.

‘Too fucking close today.’

‘It wasn’t even. You were perfectly fine, and it wasn’t like he was actually going to bite your arm off.’

‘I thought about it.’ Venom said.

‘Yeah well. Get the fuck out of my body.’ You replied, walking over to the other imposter. Porco took your hand and (with great discomfort), Venom transferred back to his normal host's body.

‘That’s better.’ Porco sang, suddenly brought to life. You shook your head with a smile, opening the oven to see he had in fact chucked the pizza in to heat it up.

���Are you staying the night?’

‘Well, it’s probably easier than trying to get back to Liberio right now.’ Porco stood up, wrapping his arms around your waist gently and resting his head on your shoulders. ‘The lights finally gave out.’

‘They’ve shut it down?’

‘Mhm.’

‘So where are you going to stay now?’ You place your hands over his, stroking the back of his palm. The man sighed, breathing hot air against your neck.

‘No clue. I’m sure there’ll be somewhere in Liberio that still has power.’

There was a moment of silence between you two, and you leaned back against his shoulder. No one lived in Liberio but them. You knew because you’d been lying to Hange about it in order to keep that small amount of power going there. But they must’ve done a scan themselves and seen no one.

‘You could move in with me?’ The suggestion seemed like some wild thing. Something that hadn’t even crossed Porco’s mind. ‘Then you wouldn’t have to put in as much effort to get stuff, or to come see me.’

The arms around your waist tightened, and you felt a smile press to your lips.

‘We wouldn’t annoy you?’

‘Porco. We’ve been together for 2 years. If you annoyed me enough, you would’ve already.’ You spun in his arms to face him, hands finding his jaw. ‘And Venom can sleep in a dog box.’

‘I am not sleeping in a box!’ The symbiote shouted, enraged by the idea. ‘Let me actually bite her arm off!’

You laughed, pressing a chaste kiss to your partner's lips before reaching for the pizza.

‘Venom. You want some?’

[ay0nha]

20 writing questions !

give a preview into your mind! how does the genius flow? how do you write? (only answer questions you're comfortable with! feel free to tag other writers to share the love ♡)

1. Is it a spur of the moment thing, or do you need a specific environment/set up to get into it? Both! But, I'll admit it's usually spur of the moment, and I'm like, jot that down, jot that down!! 2. Where do you write? (phone/pc/typewriter/all of the above?) Laptop (google docs) and phone (notes) 3. What apps/programs do you use? above! 4. How long have you been writing? too long lol 5. What fandoms do you write for? too many lol, they shift according to my hyper fixation (currently: OPLA, Jujusu Kaisen, Marvel, Harry Potter, etc.) 6. Music, or no music while writing? (if music, what kind?) I'm more of a tv in the background kinda gal, but if I'm not home writing a playlist or playlist made for me! 7. What does a WIP look like to you? (do you take notes? is anything color-coded? do you have a preferred font?) I wish I had a better technique but I literally word vomit/ stream of consciousness it 8. Do you proofread? barely, a quick glance is enough 9. What's something you googled recently for writing? always spelling or like...am i using this word correctly or did I totally make that up hahaha 10. How many words does a usual work from you have? I used to write around 4K-6K, but to maintain my sanity I've cut down to 2K-3K (and some 1K) 11. Share a snippet from something you're working on!  "It was strange to hear a voice that lost the ability to joke and convey tenderness. It was cold, hollow sounding, and barely reached you without exposing pure desolation. Its echo ridiculed him." 12. How many drafts do you have currently? I'm too scared to check hehe 13. What's something someone said about your writing that stuck with you? "I seriously can't wait to read your book one day and go "we were tumblr mutuals" 14. What's your safe zone? Is there a character or genre you're most confident writing for? hmmm you know I've been giving this thought lately, I think I have an easier time writing a morally questionable character because I can "work" more with them being annoying to drive the plot. 15. Is there something you want to try in your work that you haven't done yet? haven't given much thought to this, but open to suggestions! 16. Do you have a favorite work of yours? All of them (maybe my tommy shelby/theseus scamander stuff, but my fave fave for nostalgic reasons is "pain in my heart" for Bucky Barnes 17. Do you have a least favorite work of yours? All of them (probably the old stuff, if I was still active for certain fandoms I would love to rewrite them with more mature writing) 18. Genre of the very first thing you wrote? Every cliche I could think of/bad fluff and angst lol 19. Genre of the latest thing you wrote! OPLA/angsty angst 20. Last but not least, where can readers find your stuff? (your masterlist/other sites you post on/etc.) HERE!

tags! @togenabi (as the creator of this wonderful post, I'd love to hear about you!) @kalllistos @from-the-clouds @sp1rit-realm @lundenloves @wood-white-writer

I appreciate you all dearly <333

[medicatedandcaffeinated]

Impostor Syndrome

For the past several months I’ve been on a bit of a roll with my writing. My story has exceeded 77k words which is a lot for me since I struggle with allowing myself to write. I also struggle with showing people my work. As of right now there is only one person I’ve felt comfortable showing my story to because I’ve been burned for my passions in the past by people who didn’t care about my well-being.

I have a lot of worries as a writer. I worry about everything. My pacing, my plot and character development, my dialogue, my personal progress in the story, what the ending will be and when it will be. When I get lost in those worries I feel deflated in my ability to write.

The friend that I show my writing to called my story a “slice of life” type story. I don’t know why but my brain translated that to “boring” which propelled me into a implosive dissociative panic attack at the idea that my story that I’ve put so much time and energy is possibly boring. Is this what my friend meant at all? No. Her favorite genre is slice of life so she was actually paying me a compliment but I was so caught up in the idea of writing for other people that I completely lost my grip on what it meant to write for myself. I also completely lost sight of the fact that I haven’t written fantasy in literal years. I’ve been writing short story literary fiction which is like the professional term for slice of life I think.

There was a period of time I wrote pages and pages everyday. One story after the other like a machine. In middleschool I was approached by an agent who wanted to publish my work—I was working on a book at the time—and she told me to call her whenever I finished my book so we could start the process of publishing, editing, contracts, etc. I had had several meeting with her but after the meeting where things got serious and we started to seriously talk about publishing where there was talk about time frames and due dates I stopped writing. I didn’t just stop working on the book I’d been writing. I stopped writing short stories. I stopped writing fanfiction. I wrote essays for school just because I had to, but other than that my creative capacity for writing had completely dried up. Then my adhd symptoms got bad and I stopped reading. I went from reading three books a week to nothing. I only wrote when I had to and only read when I had to. I stopped reading and writing (for my own passions) when I was 13. Around 15 I made everything worse by giving my life to cannabis. My adhd was diagnosed when I was 20 and I didn’t start treatment until several months later. I didn’t read a book of my own choice and volition until I was 21 years old and it took me a year to complete it. I remember being so extremely proud of myself for exploring what used to be a major part of my life that my addiction and learning disabilities had taken from me. I did start story boarding but only in a half assed way. When I was 22 I started writing short stories and I chose to get sober.

I have made a significant amount of progress and I acknowledge that but I still have a lot of damage control to do and I have to give myself the space and patience to do so. I am a writer even if only one person has read my work. I’m a writer even if no one reads my work. I don’t need to be published. I don’t need to have degrees. It’s okay that I make a lot of mistakes. It’s okay to be bad at proofreading, spelling, grammar and punctuation. I write because it’s something I’m passionate about. I write because I enjoy the feeling of world building. I’m not pretending to love writing. I’m not pretending to write. It doesn’t matter what genre it is and it doesn’t matter the marketability. That’s not what’s important. My passion is what’s important and in need to remember that.

[bvllatrix]

where — the cauldron brewery. who — @mccdyalstr​​

Bellatrix sauntered into the bar, heavy-lidded eyes scanning those present. It had been a long day of work — researching with little prevail, reporting to her client at the Ministry with bad news: this curse might take a while to crack. Not that she minded; it were the tougher curses that she preferred, intriguing puzzles to solve, piece by piece. Sometimes she even took some inspiration — though no one needed to know that.

She reveled in doing ordinary things, some times. Wandering into a bar after a long day of work, pretending like that was all that life was ... while sometimes she wished she could bear her fangs to the world and show her cruelty without a mask, she liked the lies, too. And so, with a heavy sigh, she slid down on a chair at the bar, next to none other than Alastor Moody. On purpose, of course — she felt like stirring the pot, polite words spoken with professional smiles, all darkness bubbling beneath curled lip-corners. 

“What a day, hm?,” she mused, before ordering a stout. “Or week — or decade, even.” A dry chuckle, as if she were dreadfully exhausted with the state of the world, rather than thrilled. “Quite depressing that even Quidditch isn’t sacred any more. These Order people ...” Bellatrix blew a long breath of air between slightly parted lips, head shaking. “I imagine your office must be exhaustingly busy, Mr Moody.”

[majwrites]

Mountains

Bifur x reader

A/N: This can be read as platonic or romantic. It's not proofread and I wrote it to deal with some stuff, I hope you'll enjoy it anyway.

Warnings: Smaug, childhood trauma and neglect, selective mutism, abandonment issues, I found almost nothing about Bifurs backstory so I just made smth up

"Bifur?", you sat up from where you had been sleeping on a patch of grass outside the mountain. He looked at you. Even after Bifur had regained his full ability to speak, both of you didn't use many words. You were fluent in khuzdul so there had never been a language barrier but both of you had a rather complicated relationship with the spoken word. With Bifur there was no need for words most of the time but this one question haunted you like a ghost of the past. "You're not going to abandon me, right?", you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. "Of course not", was his reply. He offered his hand and you took it. When the both of you were out in the marketplace or walking through the halls of the mountain it was rare to see you not holding hands or guiding each other in another way. You had a tendency to lose your way or get distracted and you tried to avoid that.

Your mind started to wander back to the reason you had asked Bifur a question you already knew the answer to. Back when Smaug had claimed the lonely mountain you had been young, even a bit younger than Bifur. In the hurry of leaving the mountain you had lost sight of your parents and ended up with Balin and Thorin. They made sure to reunite you with your parents later on but it had never been the same as it was. Sure, they made sure that there was lunch on the table for you and that you had a place to sleep, but you had questions that they could not answer and when you started to act like the traumatized child you were at the time they didn't know how to deal with it. So you ended up mostly dealing with it on your own just like Bifur who was left with his younger cousins. You loved your parents dearly but now that you were older and had grown up you realized that they had caused you a big problem. Sometimes a deep fear of being left alone to fend for yourself would surface. Bifur understood this better than anyone else.

You snapped back to reality. Bifur was holding you like he always would when you got like this. You grabbed his coat a little tighter. Even now there was no need for words. There have been times in both of your lives where you wouldn't say a single word all day because it was too much to handle. Bifur sometimes remembered how his cousins had tried to coax you into telling them what's wrong, but even Bofur understood at some point that you weren't able to. Bifur had never tried to get you to speak. He didn't want you to feel uncomfortable so he would always sit with you and hold you if you wanted. In return you did the same for him. A few years ago on a day where both of you had been feeling very out of it, it took Bombur half the day to find Bifur and you in a blanket fort in the darkest cave of the mountain. Both of you thought the absence of light was very comforting and there were some places under the mountain that could provide that.

By now everyone knew where to find you most of the time, but they also knew that there was no need to worry. With Bifur by your side everything would be okay.

[dawn-petrichor-world]

Next Generation (1)

A/N: A friend sent me this and I wanted to write an HC with them, maybe I will write part two. This drives me crazy, more than all the fics I wrote or plan to write and it gives me anxiety. Happy to share it with you. The reader is mostly "you" I hope it's ok for GN.

You can consider this as an AU because the scenes don't follow the MCU timeline. Some happen during the Blip, some after and some before.

You can skip the character you don't like stories don't follow with eachother.

+4.5k words not proofread.

Warning: Blood, bitch word, and more. But lost of ❤️‍🩹💔/🧨💥/🦋❤️‍🔥

Prompt is "Fall asleep on his/her lap"

Peter Parker:

• In a few weeks, the final exams will start. This is important for you and your parent. Best universities are ready to accept you.

• You are really smart, have the highest scores in your high school, and every student asks for help but there is one subject where you aren't good at all.

• Technology is your worst subject. You hate it. You worked so hard but got the lowest grades all the time.

• You had no choice but to ask another person who is the smartest student in Midtown Science High School.

• Hours since Peter Parker tries to explain to you how it works but your brain is malfunctioning. He's speaking like a Spanish cow.

• You take a break because of your headache, sitting now on his bed you observe all around you while he goes to bring some snacks.

• Of course changing the subject it's hard but when he talks about villains, you find him more attractive.

• After midnight your eyelids are heavy, you can't stop yawning and finally fall asleep on his lap. He's surprised and asks you if you're sleeping whilst you can't hear him already in Morpheus' arms.

• He doesn't know what to do or wants to risk waking you up but he has the urge to remove some stokes on your face, so he acts gently making you purr.

Tony Stark:

• You're 7 y/o, single child and orphan. You deeply love Morgan Stark as your lil sister, spending all your time with her and when the parent isn't around the two of you raise hell together.

• One night, sitting on the ground under a sheet with a light on, Morgan is telling stories about heroes and enjoys making you scream with the villain's part.

• Suddenly the sheet flies and reveals Mr. Stark looking at you with a serious face while both of you scream and laugh in relief. The bedtime is ticking for half an hour now, the story won't change tomorrow so it's time to sleep.

• Every night you are thirsty, even in the Stark House, it's obvious to sneak out of the bedroom, open the fridge, take a bottle, pour a fresh glass of water and drink hide in the shadow when Morgan's daddy moves light blue things in front of him.

• He's moving weirdly on the chair but once on the sofa, he seems painless. He still works, something very important because according to your soul sister when he frowns his brow and is not in bed whereas the outside is so dark that means he's onto something for the superheroes.

• You want to see more but every step you do, your sight is blurry and your eyes heavier. You climb on the sofa put your head on Tony Stark's lap and fall asleep.

• He's not pleased to see you there but waits a few minutes before putting you in your bed.

Steve Rogers:

• Still thinking you're a freak and have to work hard to control this curse, you're standing before the Avenger building with only a bundle of your clothes. There are many people inside, young and old, they're training, using their ability to help weak humans, not able to protect themselves against enemies.

• You read every book you could find, every article on the internet to learn about what you are but anything is clear or helpful and as usual when you're frustrated you need to expulse it.

• Months later, still at the same point without no answer, you go to the gym room, kick a punching bag so hard that it flies through the room and finishes on Captain America's feet.

• He's not there every day but that doesn't mean he's not in touch with all his students. So when it's necessary and he had to interfere, he prefers to do it face to face. Then you sit next to him and tell him everything.

• You spend all your free time training and studying. Go to sleep late and wake up early. You take no break with others, to breathe and think differently.

• Steve points out the fact even with all the training rooms and intense schedules, this place is for people like him, like you, people who feel like outcasts, reject. Staying alone can't change the feeling of being a monster, we need to be surrounded by people like us and feel we're from something.

• Then he starts being more personal and telling you stories about him. All frustration is gone, your nerves are relaxed and even if you love hearing Rogers's stories, he knows it, you try hard to stay focused but exhausted you completely fall asleep on his lap.

Natasha Romanoff:

• After moving on to the Avengers building a couple of weeks ago and you've been evaluated, a wonderful ginger woman chooses you to follow her special training.

• This is particularly intense, you fall on the ground all the time. The punches, kicks, etc aren't light because every night you groan to remove your clothes and watch many bruises on your body and face, plus your reflection in the mirror shows the lower of your lip is slipping.

• She plans several duals where you and other students have to fight with each other and you've been kicked one by one.

• Natasha's personal training is awful each time but without it, that's a hundred per cent sure you'd spend this particular night in a hospital. She literally saves your life.

• After a marathon night for the first time out of the building, some young students and you are involved in an attack by a band of drunk guys.

• None of you are hurt, only them, are suffering badly and after the police officers leave you to come home, the oldest buys many beers and you all finish the night on the roof of your new house

• A few hours later, the music is off, and you are the last of your kind awake who is blinded by a light held by your Teacher of self-defence. And then sits next to you, wants to know what's happened hours ago. You made the mistake to put your head on her lap because you fell asleep before telling her the story.

• The last thing you heard is she finds you so peaceful.

Bruce Banner:

• You're a genius assistant working at the Avengers Tower who plans to create something to save more lives than usual.

• One night you heard about Tony's and Bruce's project and want to help them, even after their failure with Ultron and Sokovia.

• Every day and night you work on this new project, drink too much caffeine, eat not enough and have no social interaction. Then you have burnout, become furious and break everything in the lap.

• Banner who has insomnia, runs to the noises, worrying and thinking of an attack but once in the room, nobody is there. Some screens are still working and drops blood on the floor he follows leading him to a room where there are sofas, chairs and a bar with alcohol.

• While he's healing your hands, he and you talk about your project, he clarifies many points where you were struggling for days then you realize asking for help is what you should do earlier. It's not a bad thing because all your qualifications have their limits. And the fact you're exhausted tricks your minds into resolving some easy tasks.

• It's embarrassing for you because you always want to impress him and Stark but he tells you he is, proud of you and always keeps an eye on your progress.

• This little session of confession and your sleep deprivation make you forget the manner because you rest your head on his lap, ask for a story and he puts a blanket over you.

Clint Barton:

• Your partner Hawkeye and you are in a jet when it was under attack by Hydra, the pilot dies before the crash and only you two are safe, lost in a wood somewhere in Canada.

• Walking hours to avoid the death squad by blurring the footprints you leave behind, stopping those who are really close to catch you, both try to find a living place to contact the Shield to be rescued.

• One of them has a Walkie-talkie on him that you untie from his military vest. Unfortunately, it works with fingerprints and a code to unlock it but the former user can't help you anymore. Doesn't really matter because it's usable to spy on them and predict their moves. Of course, it's not funny when it's easy, right?

• You are sitting on a tree limb, shooting some arrows around you as an alarm to be informed and secure the area. Hydra soldiers are surrounding you, walking closer towards you, while the Archer with the Mohawk is the bait you stop them not deadly by shooting arrows, all that by climbing up and down the tree in a circle.

• Many men are down, one of them still conscious touch you, nothing serious just scratches on your abdomen and your left leg making you fall on the snowy ground.

• Behind a bush, a sneaky bitch jumps out on you, grabs the knife on her ankle to stab your thigh. In time you close your legs, twist a little bit on a side, pull your waist up, all of this, taking support on the snowy floor and kicking her ass making her hit the tree truck.

• When your partner finally joins you, he carries you on his back to an old cabin he found. The fun fact is his bow and arrows are in it since the all-time he was looking for in the jet before the crash. It's full of dirt and ashes, fell right into the chimney.

• He heals you by putting a bandage all around your wounded tight and a band-aid on your torso. After being absent for several minutes, Clint appears with a phone, some cans of food, and water.

• Until the Shield comes, you put your head on Clint's lap, turn your face on his side for more darkness. He was envious telling, he wishes he can fall asleep everywhere like I do, so you point out that your physical health situation required rest and you have no choice but to wait by sleeping even though you'd love to talk with him.

Thor Odinson:

• Witness of the destruction of your homeworld by the Ragnarok and resident on Midgard for a couple of years.

• You wander at New Asgard and see, beside a white sculpture next to the sea, the real destroyer of your world who's talking to his axe. The anger deep down in your heart is now burning and running through your vein.

• Walking towards him with a hateful gaze, two knives hide under your sleeves that you catch when their slip into your hands. At the last moment, he sees you turning around yourself and kneeling to cut him in a different area of his body.

• Without wasting any time you face him and jump to stab him on his perfect muscular chest but he stops you in time. The tip of the knife in your right hand pokes him but the one on your left rips his shirt.

• Once crouch, you push hard on your feet to jump and spin on yourself again as a storm, arms spread to cause lots of injuring as you can but not really powerful he gets some cuts not serious.

• Feet on the floor, you try again and again to stab him, to cut him but he dodges all your moves, even when you jump in the air he predicts it because you always do the same move.

• With the palm of his hand he pushes you, making you fall and your head hit a rock. Refusing to give up even if your left eye is drowning in blood, full of rage this time you run but the voice of King Valkyrie makes you stop. She looks upset by your behavior with her friend, the former Prince Odinson.

• Your grandparents was Hela's slaves and she killed one of their unborn child. Her comeback causes their death. All your friends can't flee the Ragnarok. And your family died in the hands of the Goddess of death.

• The God of Sparkles seems sorry and after bad jokes, he tells you once again Asgard is not a place but the people. Lots of Asgardians have lost family, friends but we can still honor them and their memories by living, spreading love and helping everybody.

• The anger is gone, you start to cry in Thor's arm. Meanwhile, he talks with Valkyrie about your fight skills he finds very impressive but need to be improved.

• Now relief, the night you spent awake walking in the streets reminds you to rest and quickly you fall asleep on his lap. The worthy God finds this adorable and the excitement that you forgive him makes you growl to noisy as he is.

Stephen Strange:

• The night is still the same, full of criminals with vigilantes to stop them but the world misses one of their best pale, you. Because you are stuck on a stupid mountain with weak guys who learn stupid wizardly tricks.

• It's been months since you're there and the only action was thankfully when the gorgeous and powerful Scarlet Witch went to kidnap and kill your multiverse pinball friend.

• Now there's only training, training, training and training, Monday to Sunday. When there's no training you have to study even though you read all the books in Kamar-Taj's library and know them by heart. You really need action.

• Wong has to go to San Francisco, a karaoke night you heard. Sign to hit the road. America knows about your plans and blackmails you to let her go on an adventure with you.

• She tries a dozen times to open a portal and finally gives up when you're calling her out from another room after opened yours. She's still struggling with basics but has no choice if she wants no one teleported to another universe when she sneezes.

• The two of you are walking in a dark room and while she's complaining why the Sanctum Sanctorum and not another place, you're trying to find your way based on your memories.

• Finally in the living room, MAC's sitting on a chair, stars to rummage on a desk next to her and sitting in front of her you do an impression of Dr. Wizard. Both of you stop to giggle when a sound from upstairs draws your attention.

• It's a bad idea she whispers a million times but can't stop to follow you into the new room that looks like a museum. She sticks her nose onto every window that contains artefacts while you're looking for something precisely.

• Half an hour later, America reminds you it's time to go home and perhaps the next week you'll find the cloak. But when you open a portal, a voice is coming from another room and sounds coming closer to you.

• You have to think faster, look at your friend who recognizes the way you look at her and gonna warns you but you spin your hands making move the portal where she is. After she comes back to Kamar-Taj, you run to a closet and stay there for several hours.

• Stephen Strange is sitting on a chair without moving, that's insane. You feel disconnected from reality, the urge to sleep is driving you crazy. Out of control, your head hit the closet's door which is open a few seconds later.

• You fall literally on his arm and try hard to keep your eyes open, unfortunately with no more energy, it's a losing battle. Very surprised he catches you in time and falls too on the floor with you. Angry he tries to wake you up but his cloak blocks Stephen's mouth and arm. Even a herd of elephants can't do anything.

Wanda Maximoff:

• There are plenty of anonymous clubs for people who want to talk and don’t want to feel alone. But how, when everybody knows you because of the several past crimes and the most important fight again Thanos?

• The Westview’s victims are afraid, hate and feel pity for her but one soul felt everything: sadness, anger, and happiness which are not her own feelings.

• An empath is a person who feels every feeling of people all around it. No one can hide a broken heart, burst love, the pain and joy during labor, or the horror to lose everything.

• You’re walking city after city, scanning every person you meet and this is really exhausting. If you could expand your power all around the world it’ll be easy and faster.

• She’s the only one who can help with your ability, the only one who was there for you when she had family problems and the only one who believes in you.

• The most powerful magical gal always found time for you, now it’s your turn to have time and to help her.

• Somewhere in New Jersey, you finally find her where everything starts but nothing looks like home. Something is different, the atmosphere is thick and you can feel the darkness surrounding you even in a beautiful flourishing garden.

• She’s there picking apples, in a casual outfit, her beautiful ginger hair braided, smiling at you when she sees you. You try to hide the uncomfortable feeling running through you about this place, about the darkness, the anger and the sadness living in her.

• Something weird happen. The desire to help her is huge and without the daily training to channel your power makes you back on the first day you struggle with. No there’s something else.

• Tiny bolts of electricity come out of your finger to hit her head pretty hard, it’s hard to get out of your influence but extremely powerful and help by something else.

• To stop you she uses her power and whips the air making you spin and fly to strike the tree and break some of your bones at the same time.

• You whine in pain and cry, Wanda kneels next to you, puts your head on her lap and tells you, she’s not mad at you, she was there to help you once, she is and always be there to help you again.

• She lifts her hand above your head, makes dance her finger and adds that will help you to have nice dreams. And then you faint.

Bucky Barnes:

• Born in the USA, rose in Africa, after the death of your parents you grew up and have been rose with the Dora Milaje, the warrior women of Wakanda.

• One day Captain America comes to see the King and demands help for a man with long hair and only one arm. This second white man sleeps in Shuri's Lab, where she will remove a program out of his brain with Ayo.

• Some nights, you go to visit him while he's sleeping, so peaceful he looks and spy on them outside of Mount Bashenga and after a few weeks, the White wolf is free from the brainwashing.

• The last time you saw him was on the battlefield against Thanos and his minions when he was the victim of the snap. He calls his best friend, walks towards him, starts to crumble in ashes and before he fades away in front of your eyes, you believe he looks at you sadly.

• Five years later thanks to Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark, every victim from the Blip come back to life and those aliens are beaten. Many things have changed in five years, people grew old, are officially a protector of the King, whereas others try to have a life in a new world.

• This is working in your mind, did you create everything you saw because of what you feel? You need answers and luckily you've been chosen to capture Helmut Zero the pet of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier.

• Ayo is disappointed by your actions, in no circumstances you would be touched by anybody and says you have to rid of what is heavy in your heart.

• Next to a pub, you meet James who invites you to drink. Several hard liquors later, you become more talkative and share things you never should as the nights you went to the lab, the night you were in wood to watch his improvement. And the day you cry, thinking he was dead.

• He tells he felt your presence. Spending time with only an arm couldn't affect his ability to protect himself, he was in Wakanda surrounded by amazing people, warriors and Dora Milaje but he felt safer with you around and was sad to be separated from you without exchanging a word.

• You kiss him not on his lips or his cheek either but in between. Beginning a relationship on two different continents won't be a good idea and after your confession, it was the only chance to take.

• The pub is empty now, only the two of you still talking for hours. You decided to take a nap, waiting for a delivery man to come with your food but not sober at all you fall asleep on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around you to be sure your head doesn't hit the table.

Loki Laufeyson:

• The royal family and the servants spend time together and even more their kids. Some boys are trained to protect the King, his wife and kids. And some girls by witches.

• You love spending time with the Queen, witches and the servants but more with soldiers when they are training, the only moment to know who's better between you and your best friends, the Odinson.

• Rivalry was born in Loki's heart, growing up in his Brother's shadow and Thor became cocky without knowing what worthy is.

• Things are getting worse when the God of Mischief learns about his origin and in a bad way.

• All Asgardians act differently with him, except The Queen Frigga, his mother or more specifically his foster mother who is still the same with her sons since the beginning. And you, his best friend, who always win every hand-to-hand combat when he's not cheating.

• A terrible event happened a couple of weeks ago, the greatest woman of the nine realms was killed, Asgard will mourn her for months but the renegade is excluded. You have to check on the prisoner.

• She was the only woman who really loved him even if he's not an Asgardian born on the same planet as all of them who live there and he deeply loved her.

• You knock out a guardian, put the suit on, look for his jail cell and find a tall, depressive man. Unsuccessfully, you call him out, knock on the window, he's still sitting there watching the void.

• No more choice, this is necessary. It will take minutes, not enough but it'll be better than nothing and you'd rather ask for forgiveness than for permission.

• You go to close and lock the door, remove the new outfit and astral project yourself in his cell, you kneel next to him. When he comes out of the mist and looks into your eyes, a short light of happiness through it.

• His heart is not broken but devastated, Thor visited him once but you know he needs you too and you're not wrong.

• So you grab his hands, he put his head on your lap and without any sound, any tears shed or words spoken, you feel him crying.

• Time running out, the door is about to break, you kiss the top of his head and move it slowly on the floor and then returned into your body.

Pietro Maximoff:

• You are the leader of the biggest protesting group against weapons and mostly the Stark industry. You try to spread your opinions in a pacific way but you can't control everyone, all their anger's born from years of violence. Frightening people who are tired of their children, parents, friends, and neighbors are killed every day every time and not only here in the USA but all around the world. Death attracts death.

• All events organized by the industry are the best day for The Twin and you to protest in the streets and in front of the building. Information is collected and shared with the other group thanks to the internet, plus actions, orders are quickly executed.

• When the billionaire douchebag came back from Afghanistan things gets worse because he create more than weapons but horrific armor.

• Canceling the plans is the only solution, and tonight is your chance. Some of you break into the industry, split into two teams you try to hack the computer while the second team disappear somewhere else in the building.

• Your senses scream something's wrong, better to keep an eye on them with security cameras. And you were right, they planned to destroy this place.

• Once outside, all of you fight about what happened there, you've been smack by a bitch when you tell them you informed the philanthropist playboy because you are afraid people are hurt.

• The twin are not happy about your action but clearly understand you and protect you from those who think you should not lead anymore.

• The merchant of Death could avoid his lab to blown up, but not your virus to destroy all his files even if it's temporary. You stay positive though, you will succeed maybe you need to join the team.

• The night is not over, there are tensions in your group, and you all need to rest to clear your mind to know what to do next.

• In your private room, on your bed Pietro is sitting, your head on his lap, can't stop to bother you while you fall asleep and next to you, Wanda who gives you hands massage. Despite your opinions, they're still there with you. A little bit disappointed but always by your side.

• They are the real protagonists of what happened and it will not end there because volunteer for something bigger.

Vision:

• You are there the night he was born, it is outstanding to watch. The Avengers are fighting with each other but stop when the God of Thunder appears and strikes with electricity the regeneration cradle and wakes up the new members. All hair on your body is shivering.

• You spend lots of days and nights, watching and studying the security footage to know how he came to life.

• One day Wanda comes back to her bedroom to watch the news about the accident in Lagos. Vis talks with her and minutes later he leaves her.

• In the kitchen you make your umpteenth hot beverage, behind you, he analyses you and points out that you should slow down, it is not really healthy, plus you need to sleep.

• You spend hours talking with him about how he feels to look different in comparison with humans, about all the knowledge he gained before being able to breathe and the fact he will never die.

• Perhaps it could help you, it could save your life against the disease humanity can't cure.

• All the session chemo makes you weak, you put then your head on his lap to rest a little bit before returning to work. He finds that fascinating.

Thanks for reading it. Hope you like it. My Masterlist. My Marvel Masterlists.

[folkloreguk]

Shower Thoughts

A/N: I like writing about personal emotions a lot…this feels a little like writing a diary but also like self-therapy and it really helps me. I hope anyone who also feels this way knows that they’re not alone with those feelings. Also happy birthday to the sweetest @sunghoonied!! I wrote this thinking of you and I hope you have the best day ♡ PS. I didn't proofread this so if you find errors kindly lmk please! x

genre: optional bias (male), meant to comfort you, angst, fluff, talk of loneliness / anxiety but with a good ending!

words: ~ 2.5 k

taglist: @lovely-ateez, @mochi-ficz, @soundsofminho, @runaway-fics

People said that walking was supposed to clear your mind. But then why was it, that you had gotten so lost in your worst thoughts out there? The time spent in fresh air was meant to let your mind wander to calm places and smiling at strangers should have made you feel less lonely. But with every step you took and with every passing face your body felt heavier. Not only did you carry your figure, but the crushing burden that had been nagging at you for weeks.

Watching others stroll around the streets seemed so easy. And perhaps it should have been easy, after all. It made you wonder, maybe you were the only one whose mind was constantly covered in dark rain clouds. Maybe everyone had their place in the world, and they knew just where and with whom they belonged. Surely, they didn’t overthink every conversation they had with a random stranger. Did their brain also function merely on autopilot in public, while the back of your mind was chaos of doubt and fear? Was there anybody else who spent day to day worrying about never finding someone who could deal with the burden of you and your issues? How was somebody else going to love you if you were this sad?

Those people that care about you are the ones you should be honest with, after all. There was no brushing off the How Are You question with a quick “I’m fine”. How could someone deal with the real answer you would give? You didn’t want to pull anybody down with you when you were hurting. So then again, maybe it was for the better your apartment was always empty when you came home. With no one to ask you about your feelings, you couldn’t cause anyone else agony and worry. Your own pain was enough – one person was enough to deal with it.

You shoved your shoes in the corner next to your door. If it wasn’t for your mental state, you would’ve guessed your jacket was a hundred kilos heavy. But even after you had peeled it off, nothing changed. You dragged your body to the bathroom.

You’d be so proud if only you could go one day without crying. And you had almost made it, had it not been for the godforsaken shower water. There was something about seeing the droplets on your skin and on the tiles that caused your tears to come out freely. The noise of the shower made you feel shut off from the rest of the world. Now it was just you and your salty ocean tears. The tears united with the shower water. It was hard to tell which drops on your cheek had originated in your swollen eyes and which had fallen from the shower head. This way, it seemed almost as if there was an invisible force that was wiping over your face, trying to appease your sobs.

But there was nobody. And that was why you only cried harder. If only you had listened to your own words when you tried to cheer yourself up. Then maybe you would feel better when you wrapped your arms around your own body. You were desperate. The notion that someone could hold you like this, one day, should have gifted you at least some form of hope. But no, you knew it wouldn’t happen any time soon. Not with this mindset and your sadness.

You hiccupped helplessly. This was all so tiring. Before you knew it, you sat down on the shower floor under the hot stream. At least there was no one waiting to get into the shower after you. So you wouldn’t have to feel guilty about blocking the bathroom and wasting all the hot water. For a few minutes you remained on the floor, drowning out your cries under the splashing sound. You felt the impulse to scream. Look, I’m here! I’m a person with interests and passions and emotions! Doesn’t anybody see me? I’m sick of only existing! Won’t somebody teach me how to live?

But at most, that would cause you a noise complaint. If only you weren’t so terrible at talking to people. Maybe you could make a friend someday – when your anxiety got better. Like in a trance, you finally switched off the water and grabbed your towel. You were so utterly lost in your thoughts, that everything went by as if you were only watching from the sidelines. You got out of the shower, dried off, put on some body lotion – an attempt at self-care – and got dressed in the most comfortable, baggy clothes you owned.

What on earth would you do tonight? There really were only so many ways you could have fun (or rather distract yourself from feeling down) when you were all by yourself and everything reminded you of how lonely you were. The option of just going to sleep slipped past you. But you weren’t tired enough. You knew you’d lie awake for hours, left alone with your thoughts. And crying yourself to sleep was the last thing you wanted right now.

So you opted for the most mainstream idea: Netflix. You plopped down on the sofa, a steaming hot cup of tea on the small table in front of you. Now you only had one thing left to do. You needed to choose some stupid show and let the problems of tv characters invade your brain and pray they would shove out your own issues. You weren’t even hungry. Although there was a part of you that wished it could have eaten your weight in chocolate, but you knew that had little to do with hunger.

Just as you reached for the remote control, the sound of your doorbell made you jump. I’ll just let it be. They’ll think I’m not home and leave. Those thoughts came right away. It made you curse yourself. You had just cried over feeling alone, but now you’re shutting out some random neighbor who probably just needs some tiny favor from you. Way to go. So, more to prove a point to yourself than to be friendly, you stepped to your door and opened it.

“Hi.” It was your neighbor. Your handsome, kind neighbor, who you always met at the local grocery store. You were so mentally exhausted you didn’t even feel self-conscious about looking the way you did. Although you hoped your eyes had recovered from the redness, at least a little. “Hi,” you greeted him back.

“Look, I really don’t want to be intrusive. And if you want me to leave, I will,” he said. He fumbled with his hands, as if he was nervous about his words. “But I kind of heard you…cry…in the shower. And I know you live alone, and I figured if you’re crying you probably don’t have any company. I guess I just wanted to check whether you’re okay. Do you have someone to talk to?”

With every word your heart only sped up. You felt like a trapped rabbit in a corner and the meaning of his message only sunk in slowly. Yes, of course. I’ll call my friend and talk to them,you wanted to say. But that would have been a massive lie. And you just couldn’t lie to him. Not when he stood there, in his fuzzy sweater and fresh-out-the-shower damp hair, with eyes so worried and attentive. You weren’t sure if it was from how touched you were by his concern for you, or if it was your sadness catching up to you again. Before you could swallow your tears, your eyes filled to the brim and your vision turned blurry.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, not sure what for. Hurriedly, you used your sweater paw to wipe your leaking eyes. You didn’t want him to feel bad for you, but now you had achieved just that and more. Your embarrassment set in and you finally came out with the truth. “I don’t have anyone to talk to.”

“No need to be sorry. It’s alright. We all have those days, don’t we? I just want you to know that you’re not alone. And I have nothing to do…so if you need someone to talk to, or even just to keep you company…I can stay with you for a bit…or you can come over to mine. I just don’t want you to feel alone. But if you would prefer to be by yourself, that’s okay. People deal with things differently.”

You were so baffled that your ability to speak completely fell through. The idea of someone, an almost-stranger, going so out of their way to make sure you were okay blew you away. He knew nothing about you. But here he was, taking a chance on you, nonetheless. Only then you realized you probably looked like a fool, staring at him but failing to answer. Quickly, you prompted yourself to open your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it.

“What were you doing just now?” he asked. “Any plans for the evening?”

“I was going to watch a movie, I guess,” you said. “And I think some company would be very nice.”

He smiled at you like was your childhood best friend and you had just reconnected after years of being apart. That’s why it felt the more natural to let him enter your apartment. You got into small talk about what it was like living in the building and how his apartment had a mirrored structure to yours. The simplest conversation took your mind off your sorrow right away. You felt like thanking him would be a little dramatic after he had barely settled on your sofa, so you kept it to yourself. Either way, the small smile on your face felt like warm, soothing sunlight on your skin after eight consecutive days of rain.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” he asked. You thought for a moment.

“No, I think I’d rather just distract myself,” you said. Even though you were grateful for having him here, you feared if you spilled your guts to him you would only scare him away.

“Alright,” he said without judgement. “What film were you planning on watching?”

And so you started your movie. There was a respectful distance between you on the sofa. But his simple presence next to you was more than you could have asked for tonight. He was like a heater, providing safety and comfort in the coldest winter. Hearing someone else chuckle at the jokes in the movie along with you was magnificent. His laughter sounded like a rainbow. It seeped into your body and your soul straightened up and bloomed like a parched flower being watered after all this loneliness.

But even under all the light, your problems were still here, waiting to nag at you. You knew they would consume you when he returned to his own apartment later. They would laugh at you for trying to socialize but staying closed off as always. Just because someone saw you didn’t mean they understood you and who you are. And how was one supposed to make human connections if they treated their thoughts like strictly confidential information in front of everybody? No, you had to tell him.Impulsively, you pressed the stop-button on the remote. He shot you a questioning gaze.

“I- I think maybe I do want to talk about something,” you confessed.

“You can tell me anything. I promise it’ll be safe with me. Let out whatever bothers you,” he said. His lovely, warm eyes were inviting like a haven for you. So you just started to talk. All your frustrations and reasons for anxiety were exiting your lips, floating all around you in the room. Airing out your weary brain finally, after holding everything in for weeks, was uncaging and nothing had felt this good in so long. Although your sadness wasn’t something that could be fixed by doing a task, the more thoughts and worries you explained to him, the easier it became. It wasn’t long before you felt your tears well up once more.

“It’s okay,” he said with his hand on your shoulder. This time, you didn’t try so hard to blink them away. Where there were emotions, there were tears, and he was right. It was fine to let them out. Through sniffles you finished telling him your issues.

“Is this okay?” he asked, gently putting his arm around your shoulder to hold your shaking figure. You hummed and nodded in agreement. His warmth was like a blanket to shelter you from the anxiety, if even just for a short while.

“I don’t expect you to know a solution,” you said. “I need to wait for it to get better. It’ll get better, eventually.”

“You’re right. It will all resolve,” he said. “I’m sorry things are so difficult. But you’re not alone, okay?”

You nodded again.

“Time will heal, I promise,” he said. “And until then, you have to hold on and keep going. The world’s a little cruel sometimes, when it shuts out the ones who struggle and don’t do as well as others. But you’re as much of a part of it as any other human on the street. And you’re just as important as them. You weren’t born to be successful or to achieve things. You’re here to live and be happy. So promise me to take care of yourself, and be gentle to yourself. Because you’re the only person that will be with yourself every second until the end. Please don’t be hard on yourself and have patience for good things to come around. And if it all feels like it’s too much for you, don’t feel guilty about reaching out for help. You can always ring my doorbell if you need something.”

“Thank you so much,” you cried. Your cheek rested on his shoulder and you sat in silence for a while. It was unbelievable which wonders such a small conversation between two people could do. Your heart felt lighter and the thoughts were no longer racing through your head. Peace was settling in, and you welcomed it more than ever.

“Now that I’ve told you about me, what kind of person are you?” you asked through tears. He chuckled a little. All you knew until now was that he had a heart of gold. Which, to be fair, meant your impression of him was off to a pretty good start already. Your thoughts were cautious as you wondered…Maybe he could be my friend.

You abandoned the movie. Instead, you spent all evening chatting about whatever came to your mind. You discussed childhood dreams, favorite dishes, your best playlists down to the cutes dog breeds you had ever seen. It felt great, getting to know somebody. And your suspicions came true. His big heart wasn’t the only thing admirable about him. He was funny and knew just what to say when you felt awkward or shy. When you slipped into bed that night, you did so with a smile on your face. You had always told yourself that you weren’t alone. But sometimes, the most optimistic person needed a small reminder coming from somebody else. Here was yours.

[nabinochu]

Can you just hold my hand?

. ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

A short, self-indulgent Kaeya piece I wrote recently when i was in need of some comfort. I haven’t posted my written work online in years and this has been proofread like once lmao enjoy.

Characters: Kaeya Alberich (Genshin Impact)

Genre: Fluff/ Comfort

Warnings: None :))

┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

A crisp breeze blew over Mondstadt as the city of freedom soundly slept. The night was clear, and the stars sparkled wondrously above. I had just left the warmth and laughter of Angel's Share, slipping out unnoticed, and was making my way through the city's alleyways. I weaved in and out, through the houses, and eventually made my way past the fountain in the city centre and began my ascent of the many steps to the cathedral. I wrapped my arms around myself as a gust of wind nudged me forward, my feet seeming to drag on the steps as a mixture of fatigue and dandelion wine began to hit me. I ran my hand along the cold stone wall and continued my climb.

Before long, I made it to the plaza outside the cathedral, where the statue of Barbatos stood, ever calm and proud. I wandered to stand in front of the archon, gazing up at him. I remained fixated for a while, but eventually gave my head a quick shake and began climbing up the side of the statue. The stone was smooth and I knew that I would most likely break a few bones if I were to fall. Thankfully, I did this frequently and was confident in my abilities. When I finally heaved myself up onto the archon's arms, I carefully stepped along them until I stood in his cupped hands. I shuffled right to the edge before lowering myself and taking a seat in his palms. A sigh of relief left my lips and I took a moment to soak up the view. It was arguably one of the best in Mondstadt and a personal favourite.

Looking out over the city and the rolling hills beyond, I felt my eyes well up. Before I could even stop myself, tears were spilling down my cheeks. Today had been a particularly rough day of monster hunting and I had nearly lost a budding young spirit from the adventurers guild who had requested to join me. Thankfully, he was ok and resting up but the experience had still shaken me. Having that in the back of my mind and then gazing out at the beautiful city I am proud to call my home just caused all of my emotions to surge at once, it would seem. Being so caught up in myself, I didn't notice someone else climbing up the statue until a tall, broad figure took a seat beside me. I was startled at first but quickly recognised the presence to be my dear childhood friend.

"You thought no-one saw you leave the tavern, didn't you?" He spoke in his usual soft, amused tone.

"Hello, Kaeya" I greeted back as I sniffled.

He raised a hand, removing his glove in the process, and began wiping the tears from my face. His expression was soft and caring, and although his hands were cold due to his cryo vision, the way in which he caressed my face could not be any warmer. He looked right into my eyes as if searching for something.

"What's the matter, love?" He finally spoke, concern lacing his voice this time.

"Today was....rough." My voice cracked. "I almost got someone killed, Kaeya."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I know."

"It wasn't your fault." He repeated, firmer this time.

I sighed. I knew he was right but it was also hard to not feel entirely responsible for what happened. It was silent for a few more moments. I could feel Kaeya's eyes on me the whole time as I stared down at my lap.

"What do you need?" He almost whispered.

"Can you just hold my hand?"

And without saying another word, he wrapped his closest arm around me, pulling me into his chest, and with his free hand, he grabbed hold of mine. He gave it a small squeeze, which I reciprocated. We lay back and stared at the night sky. And, for a while, everything felt alright.

. ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

[sacredsorceress]

 Trying || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

a/n: this is really just an angst piece and i didn’t really know where i was going with it when i wrote it and its not proofread

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst, absolute angst, trying to fall back into society, mentions of nat and tony’s death, trouble coping, mentions of blood, possible death of reader

Squeezing the rubble beneath you, your knees planted firmly against the ground, you heaved through the smoke that had begun to settle around you. With each breath you heard the fire crackle around you, water spraying from broken pipes.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried your best to slow your heavy breathing as you felt the presence of one of your teammates slowly fade away, the memory of the smile on Natasha’s face not even an hour before still fresh in your mind.

Feeling hot tears sting in your eyes, you bit back a cry as the adrenaline that had kept you going during the battle subsided and all that was left was the knowledge that you had done it. All of you had.

You had brought everyone back.

You only wish they were there to celebrate with you.

Before you even had the chance to open your eyes you could tell who was running towards you. Five years couldn't make you forget the sound of his hurried footsteps racing towards you at the end of every battle. Five years and a world away couldn’t quiet his voice in your mind.

You could sense his thoughts- searching for you, calling for you wordlessly knowing you could hear him without him even opening his mouth.

When you felt his familiar calloused and vibranium hands land on either of your shoulders from behind, you had expected to feel at peace- the knowledge that your partner was finally home again- the one person who made the world feel right back by your side, but it didn’t.

Despite the fact that you had brought back half of civilization, it felt like the two of you were up against a vast and empty world and you couldn’t understand why.

As he turned you around, sitting you against the concrete block besides you, you finally opened your eyes and was met with the sight of his worried blue ones.

He hadn’t changed a bit since the day you last saw him.

As he furrowed his brows, running his hands over your body to check for any wounds, you gently rested your hand against his cheek, his hurried motions coming to a quick halt.

“I missed you.”

Before you could even realize what was happening, Bucky pulled you towards him, holding you tightly against him, his calloused fingers brushing against the skin of your neck.

“I’m so sorry.” You heard his muffled sobs.

“Buck-”

“No, Y/n.” He argued. “I... I feel like I’m always making up for lost time. I didn't mean to do that to you... I... I should’ve done something. I could have tried-”

Pulling away from his grasp, you cupped Bucky’s face in your hands, wiping the dirt and tears from his cheek.

“Buck, there’s nothing you could have done.” You assured him, trying your best to lift somewhat of a smile to your face. “You can’t change it, but Buck- we did it. You’re home now. It’s... it’s okay.”

Despite you being the one who had been gifted the ability to read other’s minds, Bucky knew you well enough to understand that you weren’t trying to convince him of your words, but yourself.

As soon as you had built the barrier inside yourself, it had come crumbling down.

“Y/n-” Bucky eased.

“Who else?” You asked suddenly.

You watched as Bucky’s eyes avoided yours and you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“James.”

“Tony.”

You had known that you had lost someone, but the distance kept you from learning who. Now as you heard Tony’s name fall from his lips, it became real.

He was gone. Natasha was gone.

A part of you was too.

You had expected things to get better as the months passed and the world had moved on from the death of their avengers and two of your closest companions. You expected as the seasons changed and memorials had been attended and the lives of those you missed had been celebrated that you would begin to feel like yourself again. You hoped that despite the nervousness you felt walking on a crowded street again or the pang of sadness you felt every time you saw a mural of Tony on your daily commute that everything would go back to normal for you.

It had for everyone else.

Despite your best efforts to conceal it though, it hadn’t gone unnoticed from Bucky.

He tried his best to give you your space and time to grieve, but he worried about you nonetheless. So much so that when Bucky and Sam discovered the Flagsmashers, he asked you to join them instead of advising you to stay home like he usually did.

When he found you laying against a lamp post with a black eye forming and blood spilling from your nose, he regretted his decision.

“Shit!” He cursed to himself, rushing to your side.

Unlike the usual, tired smile that graced your face when you heard your boyfriend’s footsteps rushing towards you at the end of a mission, your eyes fluttered as you winced from the pain spreading throughout.

“You know Tony lived in that lake house the whole blip?” You said in a hushed tone as Bucky ripped off a piece of his undershirt and held it to your nose.

Confused, Bucky glanced up at you.

“What?”

Sighing, you closed your eyes and tilted your head back as your boyfriend continued fussing over your injuries.

“The whole time he lived in that house and he got married... and had a daughter...” You explained holding yourself back from drifting to sleep at Bucky’s soft touch. “You know, he told me before he died that that was the best five years of his life... that he wouldn’t change it for the world.”

As you continued, Bucky ran his hands over the rest of your body, searching for anymore wounds.

“He was this billionaire who had saved the world more times than he could count on one hand and in the end the best thing he ever gave to himself was some peace and quiet on some lake with his family.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said, sucking in a deep breath as Bucky’s hands brushed over your side.

Eyebrows knotting in concern over your reaction, Bucky lifted up your shirt to reveal a wound in your side, blood pooling at your shirt and staining his hands.

“Shit, Y/n-” Bucky cursed.

“I want that, Buck.” You sighed, your vision growing spotty. “I want that kind of peace. I’m just so tired, Buck-”

Looking up at you, Bucky moved his vibranium hand from your side to your face, trying desperately to keep you conscious.

“Y/n? Doll?” He nearly shouted, his forehead pressed against yours. “I need you to stay with me, okay?”

“We can... we can get a house, Buck.” You said drowsily, your words slurring together. “And that cat you wanted. You know... I want our kids to have your eyes...”

Drifting into unconsciousness, your boyfriend’s shouts for help sounded muffled as you almost felt the warm breeze of the lakehouse against your skin and the feeling of Bucky’s hands slowly making their way around your waist as you watched your kids play in the water with the sun setting slowly on the horizon behind them.

“Y/n, stay with me, doll.” You heard him plea. “I can’t do this without you.”

The last thing you remembered as your eyes closed one last time were the bright red and blue flashing lights and the feeling of Bucky’s forehead against your own.

[hotchley]

by any other name

So I wrote the fic inspired by this post. It's too long for a drabble. I kinda hate it. It's not been proofread and there's little plot. It's a bit anticlimactic, but it was fun in the moment and I need to go to sleep so... yeah. We're going with it. There's a happy ending!

Trigger Warnings: intrusive thoughts, past child abuse, trauma, trauma responses, implied panic attacks, food mention, blood mention, death mention, slight implication of past dissociative episodes, religion, religious trauma, religious themes

read on ao3!

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Aaron remembers being told that as a young boy, shifting in his seat because the clothes his mother made him wear to church were uncomfortable. It had confused him. He'd spent so long being told hell was for bad things- sometimes he was included in that list- that good seemed to be the exact opposite of that.

He'd tried to ask his mother, but she had silenced him with a look. He didn't even bother looking at his father.

Later he realised what it meant, and found himself agreeing. After all, his father was a terrible man who hurt everyone he touched, but he always said it was with good reason. Aaron hasn't set foot in a church since Haley was buried, yet he still finds himself wishing one of the men who made his life a misery is burning in hell.

He tries to not think about the implications of that too much.

The proverb comes to mind again as he argues with Jack. Not over anything serious- not in the grand scheme of things. But to a seven-year-old boy, navigating life without his mother, it is the most important thing in the world.

They're arguing over shoes.

Jack wants to wear sandals. His father wants him to wear trainers. Hotch had checked the weather forecast that morning- it was going to rain. And he didn't want Jack catching a cold because of it.

But then Jack's bottom lip starts to quiver, and he looks to his father like he's being told his mother is in heaven and Aaron thinks of the meaning behind the words. If he doesn't let this go, then what's to say he'll need to have the next thing go his way. And the thing after that. And the thing after that.

What's to say that when Jack looks back, wondering where everything went wrong and he stopped being his father's son, he will realise it was this moment?

"Okay. Okay, wear the sandals, and then let's get going," Aaron says.

Jack, completely and blissfully unaware- as he should be- of what his father has been thinking, grins, his earlier sadness forgotten. He puts his other shoe on and then runs out the door. Aaron picks up his bag and coat, smiling slightly at the trust Jack has in his ability.

Jack's teacher smiles at them when they get to his classroom. Knowing Aaron is running late, she just takes Jack's things and bids him goodbye. The relief visibly crosses his face as he realises he won't have to make small talk. He goes to tell her about Jack's bag, but she waves him away.

She's seen enough interactions between children to know what's going on. It's why she's so unsurprised when she opens his bag to see his trainers and favourite socks are neatly tucked away for when it does inevitably rain and soak him.

Aaron makes it to work on time. Of course he does.

"Morning Hotch," Anderson says when they get into the elevator together.

He's one of the few people to follow the "no inter-team profiling" rule, so he doesn't notice how some of the tension seems to bleed out of his boss' shoulders once the nickname is used. Doesn't even realise how Hotch gives him a slight smile when his back is turned.

He steps out, and everything is as it should be.

The ghost of his father may be haunting him more than usual, but Aaron spent most of his life being ignored. He knows how to hide. He knows how easy it is to forget about someone when you bury yourself in something else.

So that's exactly what he does. He logs into his computer, and he starts making his way through emails. By the time Emily- always the last to arrive, yet always on time- sits down, taking a few minutes to speak to the others, he's gotten through all the ones that came in last night.

His ear is hurting, but he chooses to ignore it as much as he can. Halfway through his second file, he opens his door. Spencer taps Derek, and a few minutes later, the rest of the team is assembled to collaborate on a profile. It means lots of talking, and the occasional shuffling of papers. It means noise, but not so much that it's unbearable.

Aaron smiles, and it feels like the ghost of his father fades. He is loved. He is cared for. He is worth time and effort.

Despite the nature of their work, he's in a good mood as the day continues.

By lunchtime, the memory of his father is breathing down his neck, criticising everything he does. His posture is crooked. His notes are too messy. His profile isn't good enough, and the killer is going to get away with their crimes.

Just like Michael Hotchner.

He has no idea where the sudden bad day is coming from, but he can't shake it now. He will not waste the day and he will not give in, but it is just one of those days where the pain is so much more than he thinks he can tolerate. He wishes he knew how to cope properly, but he doesn't.

His pen suddenly snaps. He'd been holding it too tightly, and now his hands are covered in red ink. He was annotating. He always annotates in red, but now, as it stains his hands, all he sees is Haley's blood. Foyet's. Elle's. Kate's.

There are no tissues in his room. So he goes to the bathroom, hoping the team doesn't see what's happened. They don't, but they do hatch a plan.

Again: the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

The short walk does nothing to clear his head, and every second he spends looking at the file is a second in which he thinks about the pen just suddenly breaking. How did he not realise? How did he not know? This time it was the pen. A thing.

What happens when it's a person? Then what?

He thinks he hears someone call his name. But that's ridiculous. It's too late for lunch, and too early for anything else. If someone needed something, they would've knocked on his door, especially with his ears acting up the way they were.

"Aaron Michael Hotchner," Derek shouts.

He doesn't like using Aaron's full name, but they got him a doughnut from his favourite bakery, and he can't be bothered to walk all the way up to his office. Also, Aaron didn't respond the first three times they called for him, so if anything, the shock will force him away from his desk for a few moments. God only knows how much he needs it.

Aaron doesn't hear Derek's voice.

He hears the echo of his father.

His throat starts to close. His vision starts to blur.

There is nowhere to hide. Not in his office. He used to have spots, just in case, but Jack hates it. Jack cannot stand it, so Aaron got rid of all the things that made it possible. He would never make his son hurt the way his father made him hurt, and maybe to him that is nothing, but when Jack grows up- because he will, in time- he will realise how brave his father has always been.

But that is the future.

In the present, Aaron has nowhere to turn.

The walls are closing in.

The voice is getting louder. It is getting closer. The danger is coming towards him, and he has nowhere to hide. He has nowhere to turn.

"Aaron?" Someone says.

He lets out a sound. He presses his hand to his mouth. He cannot take it back, but he won't make another one. It will only make things worse for him. He learnt that lesson long ago.

"Hotch." A different voice. A safe voice.

He turns in that direction.

He doesn't see it, but Derek Morgan's face is filled with relief and anger and sadness all at once. Because it suddenly makes sense.

"Aaron" has been tainted by the mouth of the man who gave his friend his middle name. That man and his actions are the reason Jack's middle name is Derek, not Aaron. "Hotch" has never passed Michael's lips, and it never will. "Hotch" is the man, who didn't even flinch when a bullet wedged itself in the wall next to his head.

Aaron is the boy that cried himself to sleep, wondering why his father couldn't love him the way he was meant to.

"Hotch. You're safe. Breathe with me," he says.

Hotch does.

When the panic passes, the heat rises to his cheeks, and he silently pleads with Derek to not say a word. He realises now that the other voice was Dave. Dave, who has left the room. He feels like he's failed another father.

The door and blinds are closed. He's lost all sense of time, but he feels grounded, so it isn't too concerning.

"Thank you," he whispers. For everything, goes unsaid.

"You don't need to do that," Derek replies. Because it's not difficult. Not when it's you, are the words unspoken but still communicated.

Aaron manages a weak smile. It will be a silent understanding between them, just like so many other things.

"Would you like a moment?" Derek asks him.

Hotch doesn't trust his voice, so he just nods. Derek leaves him.

Only once he stops hearing the footsteps does he break.

He doesn't scream, even though he wants to. It has been thirty years. His body stopped knowing the touch of that man long ago, and yet every waking moment feels like it is ruled by him. He hates it, but Michael- for better or for worse- made him the man he is today, and there is no way to shake that.

Realistically, he knows that he is responsible for his actions, and that he was only influenced by his father up to a certain point, but when the tears are falling and dampening his trousers- not his shirt, they'll be too obvious- rationale is hard to cling to.

He walks down ten minutes later.

The team has been guarding his doughnut. Of course they have.

Hotch's eyes are red. Nobody comments. But everyone knows. Everyone understands now.

It is an uncomfortable silence, and it is uncomfortable to watch him try and pretend he is perfectly fine, but at least he got his treat, even though it tastes like dust in his mouth.

They get it now. Why he is always so adamant about being called Hotch. Why he hates the use of his first name. Why he so violently objected to the tradition of giving Jack his name as a middle name. Because he doesn't want his son to never be free of him.

Jack will one day give his children their grandfather's name, citing him as the greatest man he's ever known.

Again, that is the future.

In the present moment, Spencer calls him Hotch without a second thought. Dave stops calling him Aaron when he wants to get a point across, realising it only works due to fear. Emily continues to make slight alterations to the nickname that either get her an eye roll or look of horror. JJ and Penelope make sure any notes written to him use Hotch.

Derek doesn't change a thing, because their bond has always been different.

Jack comes home in trainers, understanding how much his father loves him.

It makes Hotch understand that his wishes are valid. His needs matter. His comfort is important to people.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the personalities attached to Hotchner, Hotch and Aaron merge into one.

And then Hotch introduces himself as Aaron.

The road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but intentions and actions are very different things that can completely alter the destination someone finds themselves at. And a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, so whether he is Hotch or Aaron, he is a good man, who found a way to defeat their father.

[aellynera]

Enumerate (Nathan Bateman x Reader)

ENUMERATE

(hey hey. this is one of my submissions for @wasicskosgirl​ and her 800 follower celebration! congrats on your milestone, lovely! i wrote this in one sitting, which i rarely ever do, but the idea was immediate and persistent so this happened. i just made some final edits, and it was a lot of fun to do and i hope you all enjoy it!)

Word Count: ~1750 

Summary: You have a question for Nathan. He wants reasons. You have a secret weapon.

Warnings: Some language. Innuendo. Smooches. Nathan Bateman. No actual plot, just a thing. Hopefully decently proofread. Superheroes.

with the prompt - “Don’t give me that puppy dog face. How am I supposed to say no to that?”

“This is the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Nathan Bateman glares at you over his glasses. Or, he would if he bothered to actually turn his attention away from the monitors in front of him, which, of course, he does not.

On the other side of the room, you’re stretched out on the bed, on your stomach with your legs bent up and ankles crossed behind you, lazily flipping through a magazine.

For once it’s not a technical journal; you’d finally put your foot down a few months ago, told Nathan you’d had enough of the esoteric mumbo-jumbo he kept all over the house, and after a few pleas and a little please, he’d caved. He might make a case that, until now, these celebrity gossip rags were a worse idea, but he can’t bring himself to do it. As a thank you, you always make sure to hand him his favorite one when you’re done with it.

You briefly debate arguing that building an AI and pissing it off so much it thought it had no other recourse than to try to escape and then stab you in the chest is probably a worse idea, but you don’t want to actually fight with him. And you’re not mean.

“I don’t know, I think it would be fun,” you call back to him.

The clicking of the keyboard never stops. He gets so involved in his work sometimes - okay, all the time, if you’re being honest - that nothing else seems to matter. You knew it isn’t really true; the fact that you’re on the bed wearing nothing besides one of his old, soft henleys and a pair of wool socks proves that. The ability to occasionally engage him in actual conversation while his mind blazes through lines of code is rare.

“I’m pretty sure we have different definitions of that word.”

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure they more than occasionally overlap.”

He scans your voice for any hint of sarcasm, any tinge of facetiousness. When he can’t detect any and can’t determine your actual intent, his eyes narrow.

“Enumerate.”

Well, sort of actual conversation.

You toss the magazine aside and sit up on the bed.

“And for every step you take towards me, I want a good reason, not some bullshit half-answer,” he continues. Still typing away, still staring at his screens.

“How do you even know I was going to walk over there?” you mutter.

“I know your operating system, kitten,” he says, “so. Enumerate. And count those steps for me. I know you’re good at counting.” If he’d bother to look at you, you’d see the slight smirk on his face, but it doesn’t matter. You hear it in his voice. You know he’s mostly teasing you.

Then again, if Nathan bothered to turn around to look at you, he’d also see the giant, exaggerated steps you’re taking on the path to his desk. It isn’t very far from bed to desk. Nathan is nothing if not efficient, and one never knows when inspiration or insomnia will strike or you might need quick data access.

But you have a secret weapon and you are going to deploy it with as little delay as possible.

The secret weapon has never failed you before.

You roll your eyes. Smug asshole. “One. It gets us out of the house.”

“We have everything we need right here. Hardly a compelling reason. Try again.”

Another giant step. “Two. A little human interaction, other than verbally sparring with me and taking me on every imaginable surface of this house, would do you some good.”

The clicking might pause for a split second. You can’t be sure because it picks up and keeps going just as it had before, as Nathan replies, “False correlation. I hate most people, in large part because they can’t keep up with me. Not like the way you do.”

You smile, even though he can’t see you, and open your mouth to keep going, but he’s not quite done. “And, if I remember correctly, and I always remember correctly-” you swear you hear his eyebrow arch “-that other part does us both some good. You haven’t had any complaints thus far, and a few of those surfaces were actually rather un-imaginable. You gotta try harder, baby.”

Damn him.

Another step, another reason. “Three. It’s what normal people do.”

The clicking finally stops and Nathan spins around in his chair. He takes you in - one foot as far out in front of the other as possible without you falling over, arms held out awkwardly to keep your balance, wearing only his shirt and your fuzzy socks, hair still a mess from the evening’s previous activities - and gives you a pointed look. “That’s what normal people do?”

You giggle, then straighten your face. You take another step. Now you’re almost in his lap. “Four. You’d look really, really hot in some spandex and a cape.”

Nathan growls and pulls you into his lap. “I said no bullshit.”

There’s your opening. Secret weapon time.

You bite your lip and give him the widest, saddest looking eyes you possibly can. You think of lost puppies and kittens, the ending of Casablanca, that song in Coco that had you bawling. And you blink once, very slowly, just for dramatic effect. Not that you need to. Your trap is set.

Nathan groans and drops his head to your chest for a moment, and then looks back up at you, scowling under his glasses. “Don’t give me that puppy dog face. How am I supposed to say no to that?”

You grin down at him. “You’re not.”

“God damn it.”

“Nathan, it will be fun,” you insist.

In response, he stands suddenly, scoops you up and tosses you back on the bed, his body caging you underneath him.

“You really want me to go to, of all the fucking things in the entire known universe, a comic con with you.” It’s not a question.

“Well, I mean, you did already buy me the tickets.”

“Beginning to regret that decision,” the resignation in his voice is strong, but you can also hear some amusement. And maybe something a little more.

You pout at him. “And my sister can’t go with me now because of some stupid emergency work thing.”

His brow furrows. “Like I don’t have actual work to do?”

“And it would be a shame to waste them…,” You blink at him a few more times.

“I’ll donate them to a children’s charity or some shit.”

You smack him lightly on the shoulder, then your arms wrap around his neck as you lean forward and whisper in his ear. “And I still say you’d look amazing in a super suit.”

“Bull. Shit,” he leans up and nips at your neck.

You smack him harder this time. “Hey, those are good reasons.”

“Will it make you happy?” he sighs.

“Yes.”

He pauses for a few minutes with his face buried in your neck, then pulls back to look at you. His stern expression cracks, ever so slightly, at the hopeful smile on your face. And those damn puppy dog eyes. “You do make a compelling argument.”

You squeal in delight, holding his face and kissing him firmly on the lips.

“But...people. A lot of people. In public,” Nathan grumbles, narrowing his eyes and giving you the fakest stern look he’s ever given you.

He knows you know he was never going to say no to you. He can’t. He may know your operating system, but his own systems fail when you run this particular subset.

And the secret weapon never fails.

You smirk back, your grin and the light in your eyes threatens to throw his brain completely offline.

“That’s where the costume comes in, Mr. Fantastic.”

Nathan scoffs. “If I have to wear a costume, it is not going to be Mr. fucking Fantastic.”

“So you’re saying you will dress up.”

“No, but...there’s better options than that.” A lie. He was serious about being seen by thousands of people in public, and at this point, he’s not above wearing a ridiculous costume just so no one actually sees him at a fucking comic con.

“Isn’t he, like, the smartest superhero though?”

He pretends to think about it for a minute, lazily tracing a finger along your jaw. “True, but. What else does he do? I mean I know I’m flexible but…”

It takes every ounce of willpower you have to not burst into a fit of laughter as you stare back into his deep eyes. “Okay, fine. What about Wonder Woman? I’d do almost anything to see you with some golden wings. And those boots? Damn, that would be hot.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re a menace.”

“You haven’t had any valid complaints thus far.”

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, then sighs. “Almost anything, huh?” His hands have dropped down your torso, and his fingertips are gliding over your smooth skin under the hem of his shirt.

You can see the wheels start turning. Your lips purse and a smile forms. “Don’t change the subject,” you chide him. “What are your other better options, then?”

“Xavier. You could push me around for the day, it would serve you right for even asking me to do this.”

The laughter rises fully and bubbles over. “Even you’re not that lucky.”

“Or maybe Iron Man. I know I could make a working suit, and that would be pretty fucking cool,” he states, matter of fact. You’re honestly not sure if you should be amused or a little worried that he’s not kidding.

“Those are definitely better options than Mr. Fantastic,” he says softly.

You raise your head up to catch his lips, but stop just before you make contact. He makes a small noise of protest, but you just shake your head ever so slightly.

“Hmm, I’m not convinced,” you whisper, your breath fanning across his mouth. “I need some good reasons. No bullshit, Bateman.”

Nathan’s groans are silenced as you surge forth and capture his lips, kissing him fiercely and thoroughly. But his silence is only temporary, and the groans return when you pull away and hook a leg around his hip.

He stares down at you as you look back at him with the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen, and you smile innocently and bite your lip. He bites his own as you softly issue one more word into the air around you.

“Enumerate.”

~end~

Taglist:  @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @deeandbobbymcgee  @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @nathan-bateman @poedjarin @rosemarysbaby13 @sergeantkane @spider-starry @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @veuliee2 @yourbucky084 @waatermelon-sugaar

Nathan taglist:  @millllenniawrites​

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[soullessmocha]

eyes wide open.

{ david the lost boys x reader }

rating: pg-13

word count: 1922

summary: the reader finds themselves in this picture perfect morning. yet with one simple phrase they questions their whole reality. what is really happening with them?

warnings: afab!reader, mind manipulation, false reality, picture perfect family, death, slight gore, pure sadness, soft!david, sad!david, afab reader, some sad sad shit, not proofread bc i wrote this so late at night.

a/n: i had major inspiration to write something for david. i have been watching a lot of wandavision. this show really inspired the plot and the general story of this fic. i hope you do enjoy! i broke my own heart writing this. and no there are no wandavision spoilers in this. 

A yelp leaves your lips as two tiny humans graze past you causing you to jolt almost spilling your scalding coffee. “Boys! No running in the kitchen!” You yell to the rambunctious twins as they run around giggling as they chase each other before making their way into the living room. A sigh leaves your lips in relief before the tired smile turns into a warm loving smile as a hand is placed on your waist and a stubbled kiss is placed on your neck. “Good morning,” you greet your husband after putting a hand on the back of his head to which he chuckles. David slowly makes his way to the front of you. “Good morning, I see you didn’t spill your coffee this time.” David’s sly comment causes you to roll your eyes as you set yourself at the kitchen island where a breakfast was waiting for you. “Yes, luckily. You know we need to take Marko and Bruce out more. Get all of that energy out. I don’t know where they get it from.” You state before taking a sip of your warm coffee, the warmth causes you to shiver with satisfaction. An airy laugh bursts through the kitchen, “Ah yes, to be young again.” David teases once again before leaning himself on the kitchen island admiring you from afar with his striking bright eyes . These moments of sweetness weren’t rare but it was rare for you to catch him admiring you and giving you the soft look that reminded you of how much he truly loves you.

A soft smile creeps its way to your lips and you flop your head to the side, feeling the rollers in your hair to catch your head from going any further on your shoulder. “You can say that again.” Another sip of the sweet coffee trails over your tongue and you hear him sight as he also grabs his coffee. “I miss it. Sleeping all day, partying all night…” David trails off as he fills his mouth with coffee, his face being partially blocked by the family portrait mug. You blink at the statement. Why did that strike a cord in your chest? Why did it feel like you’ve heard that before? It was as if your consciousness did a full turn about. You blink a few more times and you can see David notice your sudden distraught state. Subconsciously you look down at your ring finger where two dainty gold rings lay, one with a perfect circle diamond and the other a simple band, symbolizing your marriage to the man of your dreams. Yet you don’t remember anything about the wedding. Why couldn’t you remember your own wedding? Also you couldn’t remember moving into the house. You couldn’t remember giving birth to your own sons.

“Darling?” David asks as he carefully sets down his mug, his expression feigning concern. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” He questions putting a hand on your back and rubbing low slow circles. Almost as if he was trying to ground you and bring you back to this reality. You shake your head, “What you just said-” you start but David only chuckles, “What? Being young again? I mean I’m sorry babe but we aren’t as young as we used to be.” You shake your head and stand pushing his hand away. “No, the other thing,” you start and look around the house carefully, looking at the family portraits from when the boys were newborns to the most recent Halloween photo that was framed perfectly adjacent to the fridge before focusing on your husband, “sleeping all day. Partying all night.” Then suddenly you hear his voice echo in your head and it hits you like a truck. “Never grow old… Never die.” Your words leave your lips in whispers. Suddenly your breathing picks up and your head starts to spin. Your chest heaves with each breath as anxiety and fear starts to fill your senses.

“What are you talking about, honey?” David asks with a seemingly worried and confused expression as he approaches you slowly. “Babe, you need to calm down. Take deep breaths, you’re starting to worry the boys.” he notes as the twins stand at the entrance of the open concept kitchen from the living room.

“No, no, no, don’t tell me to calm down David!” Your voice raises as you put a hand out to signal for him to keep his distance. The boys looked worried as well, almost as if you were scaring them. Were they even your kids? Are they a part of you? “Mom? Are you okay?” Marko, a little blonde boy asks you with wide eyes while his darker haired counterpart hid quietly behind him. “Go play outside sweetie, please.” You choke out as the boys hesitantly leave the kitchen hand in hand. David sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose starting to give up but he doesn’t want to give you that satisfaction. As the boys leave you point towards them with a shaking hand. You didn’t notice your whole body was trembling as memories flush to your mind overwhelming you. “David, wha- why- why can’t I remember anything?”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t start this. It’s too early in the morning for this.” David complains as he rests a hand on his hip of his neat chinos and white pristine button up shirt. He was dress as if he was ready for his 9-5 office job. Then the memories started to clash before your eyes. The bleached mullet, the gloves, the black trench coat. Yet here he was in front of you wearing a neat button up shirt with slacks and a brown belt. His hair was short and moving freely, no longer constricted by gel. “The boys? You can’t- I mean I can’t- We can’t do that!” You say in a loud tone and David tenses, his eyes slowly getting darker with each word you talk. “I don’t remember us getting married David! I don’t remember the birth of our boys! What are you doing? What is this David?” Your stance starts to get defensive as you keep your distance. David didn’t budge or say a thing. “David what the hell is going on?!” You yell, finally snapping. David blinks at your state, surprised as he looks at your long hair in distressed curlers, your robe hanging off your shoulder and your body trembling in fear and confusion.

“Y/N…” David starts trying to hold onto your hands but you rip them away on instinct. You know he had the ability to play mind tricks but this was on a different level. There are faint memories of you talking about wanting a family and kids before you made your choice. You chose to be with him forever, you chose to sacrifice all of those things to be with him. Why was he doing this? Your brows furrow in hurt and disbelief. “What are you doing to me?” You choke out as tears brim your eyes blurring the fine line between the realities you were in. You could see half of him with the striking bright blond hair and donned all in black. Yet the other half was a natural blonde, with clean shave and neat clothes on. “Y/N, I can’t let you go like this.” David whispers, he was now cornering you. Yet you didn’t feel in danger, you felt concerned but not threatened by his nature. “Please, don’t do this right now.” Was he begging you to stop? David never did that. Not the David you knew. That David always got his way and did everything he could. He would never resort to requesting for someone to stop doing something.

“Don’t do what right now? David, what is happening to me?” You ask and this time you close the gap between the two of you. Your hands cupping his cheeks as you search grey-speckled blue eyes. “What do you mean you can’t let me go like this?” You questions again holding his face searching for answers in his deadpan expression. David only sighs and shakes his head, not knowing what to say or do. “Please David, I don’t want to be in a lie anymore…” You beg in a hushed tone pressing your forehead against his and holding him close. As you held his warm body it soon turned cool, no longer as if there was any body heat radiating off of him. Then you were numb. Your eyes were shut close as you felt his forehead touch yours but they slowly opened when he pulled away. It revealed a house you weren’t too familiar with. There was pressure in your chest as if the whole world was crashing down on it. David was kneeling in front of you. The only thing keeping you two apart was the large steak driven into a part in your chest inches away from your heart.

A soft whimper leaves your lips as they tremble in the crushing weight of the reality. He was doing this to send you off one last time. To give you the lasting memory of the thing he thought you deserved the most. A normal life. “Shhh,” he hushes you and pets your head trying to calm you. You were wet and sticky with an oozing dark liquid. You were cold. Yet you were still awake. “I didn’t want to send you off like this,” David starts his eyes boring into yours in almost a hypnotic way. You could see his eyes gloss over, he too was in pain. You could only shake your head for it was too hard to talk with all the pressure. Your hand grasps his and presses it against your cheek. It was his bare hand, something so rare to hold and feel. Even the action of kissing his palm made your body tense and seize from the pain. “Thank you,” you whisper into his palm holding it close. David gives a sigh of defeat and brings his forehead close to yours once again, pressing them together in unison. One hand held your face while the other held your waist. How badly he wanted to close the gap between the two of you.

Suddenly with the blink of an eye you were back in the reality you now know as false. David pulls away from you and the boys come to his side. Your two beautiful boys wrap their arms around you. Tears fall from your eyes and trail off your cheek. You hiccup from a quiet sob as you hold them close. Kissing both of their foreheads you pull away gently. You look at David and approach him wrapping your arms around his neck. You press a loving kiss to his lips. Your grip on him was deadly. “I love you,” you whisper against his lips. David can only smirk and press another chaste kiss and hug you once more. He admired your scent one last time before he knew it was time. “I love you too,” he replies before pressing his forehead into yours. Then your world faded to black, nothingness, stillness, almost deafening.

David pulls away from your lifeless body that was slumped against the wall. A single tear falls from his eye and he is quick to wipe it away. “I will see you again soon,” he whispers into the air before stepping back where his boys were waiting for him. All of their faces distraught with sadness and fear for their brother.