imaginerequestpage - Tumblr blog

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Text

tulips and victoria lilies

Darkish! Steve Rogers x Fem! Reader

Word count: I don’t know, man. Word counts stress me out.

Warnings: Smut, unedited, breeding kink, stalking, obsessive!Steve and slight dub-con. Also, unedited.

::::::::: - means POV change.

You work at your aunt’s flower shop in the city. The moment you got off that plane, you asked her for a job. Fresh off your first degree from back home - you didn’t want to get too lazy while searching for a master’s program or a job in this terrifying new city. So you begged her and she put you to manage the shop books and arrange the flowers. Some days you even worked the register, it was a small shop so you easily multi-tasked.

Today, after you’d finished a few arrangements, you were working the register. Brooklyn was not as you’d imagined it, well, really you hadn’t known what you imagined it as. You’d only ever known if it from stories of your aunt and television. Hollywood was not known for its accuracies and neither was your aunt.

In the few weeks you’d been there, you’d had a favorite customer - a man famous and iconic not only to Americans but even to people like you who’d studied surface level American history. Captain America. That’s right, Captain-fucking-America.

Steve Rogers.

That tall ass, fantastic ass Avenger, was a regular at your aunt’s little flower shop. You wondered who he was buying them for. The tabloids linked him almost daily to a new woman, so they could be a pack of them tucked away. You liked a bit of the juicy gossip but for one irritation reason, you kind of wished it was you. But hey, he was an attractive man and a celebrity so you supposed it was only natural. You brushed it off and continued your day - it didn’t matter, and that was alright.

This morning was a particularly chill one, you found it confusing how they called it spring but it was still so chilly that even inside the shop you were gloves. Though you supposed everything may seem chilly by comparison to your Southern tropical heat.

You sipped on your big travel mug of boiling hot tulsi tea as you lazily looked out at the store. You hadn’t much crowd, besides the older lady that lived two buildings down that always bought pink roses. It was nearing the time Steve would be arriving.

Your eyes caught a reflection in the mirror, you smoothened your tightly done French braids, but your hair was stubborn coils. Sighing, you gave up - when you glanced up, there was Steve standing before the cashier.

You screeched at the surprise.

Steve smiled at your shock, his blue eyes held a dark type of humor as he looked over you. “Good morning, Y/N.” He greeted, raising the bouquet. It was one you’d taken a special care with, it held yellow Acacias as fillers with white lilacs and white gardenias, sprinkled with a handful of coral roses. You blushed, thinking how the woman who would receive it was lucky.

“G-Good morning, Steve,” you smiled back at him shyly. “Flowers for a lucky lady?” You teased, harmlessly.

:::::::::::

He bit his lower lip for a moment, the humor in his eyes dripping away into something much more insidious as he watched you head to toe - not that you could see anyway, too busy ringing up the order. The white Henley you wore was no where thick enough to hide the massive dark cups of your bra beneath, that navy sweater with your name tag was easy to see through, open and parted. He liked being able to see you like this, bathed in the early mornings. The first time he’d seen you was when he was jogging home. You were opening the store up and since then he jogged by every morning and came in the buy flowers he didn’t care for. Though he liked the way they made his brownstone smell heavenly, and like you. He’d close his eyes and imagine it being you when he brought home some random floozy, you smelt so like the flowers that he didn’t mind.

“Yes,” he answered your question. “She’s got a thing for flowers.”

Y/N smiled, teeth white and lips parted sweetly. Oh, how he’d like them spread on his cock in morning light. “Her and every other woman, huh?” Laughter spilled as you hands him his change and the flowers. Your eyes are expressive and lashes flutter at him. “Have a good day, Captain Rogers!”

God, if his pants aren’t quite tight enough as it is. There is nothing he wouldn’t do to have her scream his title like that - bent over and weeping for him. But he has a plan. And he did not become who he was by not following plans.

So instead of forcing you on your knees and stuffing you full of his cock, Steve smiled and waved you off. “You too, Y/N!”

He drops his flowers off at home, by then Bucky is awake and nursing a cup of coffee as he reads the newspapers. “Morning Buck,” Steve greets as he finds another vase to slip the flowers into. Except he doesn’t have anymore and just puts it into an empty jug inside before slipping it into the too-large fridge, it goes right beside the tulips he bought Tuesday.

“More flowers?” Bucky teases. “Maybe you should just ask the poor girl out on a date, punk.”

Steve scoffed, cheeks coloring with embarrassment. “Shut up, jerk. She’s way too shy for that.”

Bucky quirks a dark brow and takes a bit of his scrambled eggs. “Right,” the word is drawled and heavy. “Too shy for a coffee?”

He shrugs.

“Or are you too shy?” Bucky pressed, swallowing a mouthful of eggs. “Cause that’s what I think, Stevie. I think your too shy to make a move on this girl cause you might like her.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve marched in the direction of his room for a shower.

“I’m taking the silence as a yes!”

::::::::::::::

You’d teased your curls just right, till they smelt of honey and shea butter. Since five you’d been dealing with roses and the scent seemed to melt into your skin along with your own rosewater concoction. Y/E/C popped with the black liner your done and the hint of red eyeshadow, blended with a salmon color. You would deny that you were preening yourself for some man who probably wouldn’t even blink at you in a romantic way. But you couldn’t help it, he was a handsome - ridiculously sweet man. Who wouldn’t want that? Plus despite his kind disposition he felt so undeniably alpha. Like he could split you open and get you to call him Daddy. Cause maybe - though due to your lack of experience, it was dubious - maybe that was your thing.

It was Friday now, your last day of the week managing the shop when Steve came in. Glistening but not haggard from his workout. You were mid-conversation with the weekend staffer - Jocelyn, a fiery lithe woman. “Ohh is that Captain America?” She purred. “Does he come here often?”

You knit your brows - Steve has mentioned how he’d come her after a run. And even on your days off you could see him jogging from the loft upstairs. How did Jocelyn not know him?

Maybe he just came on weekdays, you reasoned quickly. “Yeah, he’s a regular.”

Jocelyn raised a brow. “Really? I used to work here everyday before your aunt gave you the job and I never saw him before.”

You shrug, so what if he only recently started buying flowers? It wasn’t your business, you thought as you wrapped the last bouquet of red roses and placed it into the fridge.

Steve was standing by some of the potted plants, a change from the usual. Maybe this time he wanted something with a bit more permanence than the usual. “Finish off here,” your wave your hand to the Valentines display. “I’ll head to the register.”

Jocelyn hummed. “Sure you will.”

::::::::::::::

Today you did something new with your hair, letting it down and making your face look even more alluring than usual. Steve has seen the way you’d curled and teased it in your room that morning from his usual perch. It suited you and he wondered who she’d done it like that for. From his intel it didn’t seem that she had anyone in her life. He’d also seen you hum into your reflection as you curled your lashes and spread red onto your lips. But seeing it up close felt different.

He plucked a bouquet of lilies and a potted tulip and made his way to the register. Steve smirked at the way you perked up, hand reaching for your hair just to fall.

Ah, so you had done yourself up for him. That was good. He was tired waiting. He’d take it as a sign.

Buck had had a point. He did like you, perhaps more than he’d admit. He wanted you - no, needed you. Everything about you drove him mad. Your shy nature. Your endless curves. The way you seemed to light up every time he came into the shop – you’d be such a good girl for him. But you never made a move, but Steve was a strategist and he knew when how to make you move.

“Good morning, Steve!” you greet, your eyelashes long and curled, brown eyes amber in the morning light. He could imagine you looking up at him like that with your ruby lips spread on his cock. “Tulips again today? I love them.”

I know, he thinks, remembering how he’d been in your loft last night as you closed up. Tulips covered your cracking wallpaper and in every vase of the open space.

“I’m a fan of them myself,” he adores the puffed cheeks of your face indicating a blush. “What are your plans for tonight?”

You stumble and almost drop his change, but he captures your hand. You’re as soft as he imagined, and his hand easily swallows your smaller one. He can’t help but think how easy it would be to pin you beneath him as he fucks you to euphoria.

Steve smiles at you charmingly watching as you stammer to reply. “I-I, not, I- haven’t got a-anything planned.”

“I’d like to take you out to dinner then. At eight?”

Like the good girl he knows you are, you nod rapidly - saying yes to him with an eagerness he hopes carries over to everything else. Will you be so eager to please him later tonight?

Does it matter?

:::::::::::::::::::

You can’t believe Steve asked you out! And to add, you said yes. What the absolute fuck were you thinking? There was no way in hell you were going.

Yet, this was Steve. Tall, GQ worthy Steve with all the soft sensibilities of your dream man. You’d be insane not to go.

That was what you told yourself anyway, after locking up and running inside to get ready. You’d put your thick curls into a bun and done your make-up classy with a new gloss. He hadn’t been specific about where you were going for dinner so you wore a pair of chunky heels with a spaghetti strap body-con, donning a denim jacket you figured it would be smart to have something to make it a bit casual just in case you read too much into it.

So, here you were five minutes before Steve had told you he’d be there to pick you up, dressed but so ready to flake out on him. This was your dream man - you’d have to be a complete imbecile to stay home.

“What does he even see in me?” You moaned. Shouldn’t somebody like him be dating a model? Or some fancy career woman? You arranged flowers for a living and had a bachelors in Education – he was a god damn Avenger.

Too lost in your whining, you’d hadn’t heard your doorbell ringing. Instead it was the pounding of your door that jolted you. Letting out a mouthful of nervous air, you picked up your purse and opened your door.

It was, as you suspected, Steve. And damn did he look good. Dark blond hair combed back, and dressed in a pair of navy blue slacks with a charcoal shirt – he looked every bit of deliciousness and you wanted to eat him up. “You look gorgeous,” he said, blue eyes dark in the light. “I almost don’t wanna leave.” He joked, at least you thought it was.

Smiling, you glanced at the origami flowers in his hand and gasped. You’d been so busy ogling him you hand noticed them. “Are those for me?”

He handed them to you, hands brushing, you felt goosebumps coat your arms. “Figured I had to get something special for you. They’re supposed to be –“

“Victoria Lilies,” you finished, amazed at the beauty. They were your favorite flower from back home. Just seeing it brough tears to your eyes – they were so beautiful. He couldn’t possibly have know how much it would mean to you. But that didn’t stop you from wanting to jump into his arms right then and there. “This is so sweet - I, oh god I don’t wanna cry.” You muttered as you sat in the two-seater by the door, everyday you missed home more.

Panic flashed on his face as he tried to soothe you. “Hey, hey, It’s okay,”

You thanked God that your make-up was set and wouldn’t ruin his lovely shirt. You didn’t cry but simply inhaled him until you were calm. Steve smelt like spice and sandalwood.

You couldn’t but laugh, leaning away from him despite his rigid hold. “Well, this is a heck of a first date!”

Steve’s expression was unreadable but his eyes were darkened.

Licking your lips, you tasted the strawberry gloss before continuing. There was something about his eyes that you didn’t trust. “I-I think we should go, don’t wanna miss your reservations.” You tried to stand but Steve didn’t let you, instead a slow, easy smile crept to his handsome face, creating a twisted, dark look that unnnerved you. Suddenly he wasn’t Captain America.

He was someone else.

“Steve?”

Licking his lips, he ran his hands over your exposed arms - the jacket you planned to wear was thrown over your couch. “Steve?” You echoed again. “Aren’t we going out?”

“We were,” he admitted, finger thumbing the strap of your dress, tracing the bodice line of your dress. Your nipples hardened at his touch - light and feathery on the exposed swell of your breasts. “But I don’t think so, not anymore. I can’t wait any longer.”

Before you could speak, he’d ripped down the front of your dress, causing your breasts to spill out with a bounce. “What the fuck –“

He forced your mouth shut with a kiss, bringing you to his lap. In your shock, he was able to slip his tongue into your mouth. Steve was a damn good kisser - not like you had plenty experience, but he kissed you so good that your head spun and your pussy grow damp. His large hands gripped your waist, giving it a squeezing before going to your ass. Palming each globe, he gripped before standing up. Your wrapped your legs around his waist so you wouldn’t fall - he felt hot and hard against the crouch of your panty.

Your back hit the cushion of your couch, and suddenly your breasts were being fondled. In his hand they were massaged and manipulated, Steve’s lips left your, trailing to your neck where he sucked a hickey to life before popping a nipple into his mouth. His other hand abandoned your sensitive breast, slipping to your throat where he gave a squeeze. Steve removed what was left of your dress, easily pushing aside your lacy thong to get to your drenched pussy. His finger slid in, curled as they attacked your g-spot, his thumb flicking your clit.

Letting go of your nipple with a plop, he bit into the flesh before kissing it. “I knew you wanted me, baby. God, you’re gonna be so good to me won’t you? I can feel your pussy on my fingers.” He groaned before kissing your lips.

Steve stroked you to an orgasm embarrassingly quick, causing a string of curses to slip from your mouth. How had only his fingers reduced you to that? God, this man was dangerous.

“Steve, Steve,” you moaned, feeling hot all over. You wanted this, you wanted more.

“I know, baby,” he whispered against your skin before rising between your legs. Steve looked straight in your eyes and sucked his fingers dry - and there was something about that, that sent you wild. You squirted on his pants - eyes wide you cursed covering your face in embarrassment. You heard him chuckle and the sound of his pants unzipping followed after. “Let me see your eyes, doll. C’mon, I’ve got a treat for that sweet mouth of yours.”

You didn’t listen and he sighed, prying your hands off. He stared at you with mischief and sternness. “Get in your knees, baby. We’re way pass being shy.”

Licking your lips, you got on your knees - looking up at him through your lashes. Steve took his thick, cock out and tapped it on your lips. “Say ah,” you opened your mouth and swallowed the bulbous head. Sucking on it, you liked the way it felt in your mouth; heavy and warm. Steve’s hands found their way to your hair, threading into the massive curls for grip.

“God, you feel so good. You’re such a good little girl.” He groaned as you bobbed your head at a steady pace, taking him as deep as you could before pulling back. He fucked your face for a bit before pausing, cock stuffing your mouth and throat as you gagged. His balls smoshed against your chin. “But I’m not here to have just your throat, doll.”

He pulled away, but not before rubbing the head over your lips. “We can do that later. But for not, I want you on your back.”

You still felt so hot - but what were you doing? Since when were you the kind of girl to have sex on the first date? “Steve, I–”

He kissed you again, silencing your feeble protest. “I said on your back, baby.”

Okay, so you were that kind of girl for Steve fucking Rogers. You laid back, watching as Steve discarded his clothes before kneeling between your legs – behind him you could see your front door still wide open. Anyone could see the two of you. “The door –“

“Doesn’t matter,” he growled, hovering over you before entering with a snap of his hips - eliciting a scream from the depth of your belly. “I don’t care who sees me fucking my girl. Let them know who you belong to.” The curse word rolled off his lips with such filth that it was enough to make your pussy flutter around his cock. Steve stayed perfectly still for a moment, one hand on your throat; simply resting.

You grinder your hips but he pinned you so close to the ground that you could move. You need friction! You needed movement! “Please Steve,” you begged.

“Please Steve?” He teased, rolling his hips. “Say the words.”

It took a lot from you to say the words out loud, you felt dirty as they passed your lips. “Please fuck me, Daddy!”

The air got still and Steve looked at you appraisingly. “Daddy, huh?” He asked, before he began to properly rail you. “I like that, baby.”

“Daddy, Daddy,” you sang as his hold on your throat tightened.

He fucked into you so hard, almost as if he were simply using your hole. His body was pressed into you like he wanted to sear every part of him to your flesh.

“Gonna fuck a baby into you.” He promised, thick cock dragging along your walls, heavy balls clapping against your soaked center. He kissed you quick and sloppy. “Gonna have your tits filled with milk. You’d look so pretty with my baby, baby.”

You were not so far gone into the lust of the moment. Your eyes widened. “Fuck no! Pull the fuck out, Steve!”

His gripped on your throat tightened, your moans become soft whimpers. “I didn’t say you had a choice, doll.” He snapped his hips harder. “And that’s not my name.”

Against your anger, your orgasm came. “Daddy! Fuck yes, Daddy - Daddy –“

A peak that had your eyes in your head and toes curled into your carpet. Steve pounded through the world bending orgasm. “That’s right baby come on my cock, cause I’m gonna fill you with my cum. I’m gonna pump you full of my fucking sperm.”

You scratched at his hand as he kept his rhythm, hips jerking as his jizz filled you. He didn’t leave you, slowly filling you up with his juices as he came down his high. Even when he finished coming, he didn’t stop, grinding into you so that his juices wouldn’t seep out.

Steve relinquished hold on your throat finally pulling out of you. You felt a lump of his cum fall out, setting into your carpet.

Watery eyes stared up at him, Steve was still hard. “How are you still hard?”

He grinned at you before shrugging – looking boyish and nothing of the alpha male that had just fucked liters of cum into you.

Your night had just started.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

When Steve woke up the next morning, you were still asleep, drool at the corner of your mouth. The white sheet covered your lower half but your delicious breasts were exposed. Your hair was a mass against the white of the sheet. He’d worn you out. This hadn’t been his intention – really, it wasn’t. He planned to take you dinner, bond over things he knew you liked and pretend he knew about your favorite books; not the ones on your bookshelf but what he’d found on your kindle. Or the movies you spoke to your friend from home about.

That was why he brought those paper flowers, modeled them after the flowers that grew from your garden at home – at least as your social media said. He hand expected you to be so taken back. The way you let him hold you to comfort you, after feeling your body like that; how could he not fuck you? How could he not claim you? Just looking at you now he wanted to slip his cock between your opened lips and fill your stomach with his natural protein.

In fact he might just –

RING

Steve sighed as he heard his phone ring. Getting up, he was went to retrieve it before you woke up. The phone was left in his pants, which were thrown on the couch.

“Rogers.” He answered, more than a bit irritated. Now that he had a taste of you he wanted to consume you whole.

“Did it work?” Natasha or Jocelyn as you knew her asked.

Steve smiled. “Yeah, it definitely did.”

“You’re lucky I felt sorry for you, Rogers.” She pressed. It was she who had told him about you anyway, informed him about your existence. Then gave him the watered down pollen that he’d applied to his lips before coming. Not strong enough to send you to madness but strong enough to give you a nudge. That was all he needed.

“I am. I owe you one, Nat.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“Steve?” Your voice called from the bedroom. Steve perked up, ending the call after telling Nat good-bye.

Now all he had to do was to get you to meet Bucky.

Masterlist

#dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #sex pollen #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark! steve rogers #dark! steve rogers x reader #black!reader #black!oc #dark! steve rogers smut #18+ only

2K notes · View notes

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Note

can you imagine some smug hydra agent working for months to figure out how to get access to Bucky and hack into Tony's super smart technology to read off his trigger words only for Bucky to just plop on some noise-canceling headphones and beat the snot out of him

Bucky has had a long ass day.

His legs are aching from the marathon Steve insisted he join him on and he’s yet to have his morning coffee, which everyone just about knows is a dangerous situation within itself. He’s got one hand on a plain white mug and another on the coffee pot when he first hears the footsteps behind him.

He wonders for a moment if its Sam and a lame attempt to startle him enough to spill boiling hot coffee on his left arm so it stains the metal for a few days, but not even Sam is as careless with his steps as this man as he approaches.

With his back turned he can tell the man is at least six foot, around two-twenty pounds, though the clunk of the boots might bring that average down to two-ten. He can hear the clicking of metal clasps on the man’s jacket with every step.

The guy is breathing heavy, chuckling under his breath, and Bucky lets out a tired groan as he sets the coffee pot on the stove. It will have to wait just a moment longer, it seems.

“We’ve finally got you, Soldat.”

Keep reading

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #bucky barnes x female reader #anonymous #bucky drabble

728 notes · View notes

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Note

Can you do a Bucky imagine where he and the reader were together until he broke up with her. So she left the avengers and started training kids with superpowers in secret. The avengers call her for some help and Somehow need a safe place to stay so she takes them to where she keeps the kids and her and Bucky get back together. Let me know if this is too much detail believe it or not I was trying to restrain myself.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3,215

summary: Two years after you and Bucky broke up, the team needs your help.

warnings: swearing

a/n: I wasn’t planning for this to be this long, but like. It got away from me. And now I just really want to write more. Also, I really hope this is what you were looking for since I changed it up just a little! Enjoy!

“Oh, sweetgirl,” you said softly, your heart hurting at the sight of Millie crying. She was only seven years old and her powershad manifested a few years earlier. She couldgenerate and manipulate fire and it was proving to be more difficult for her tolearn.

Granted,if you had managed to get her out of her abusive parent’s household before a fewmonths ago, perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad. Even though it technically wasn’t your fault—you had still been with theAvengers at that time—you still blamed yourself. Your kids were your life now, and you caredfor them as if they were your own.

“Why areyou crying?” You asked her, though you knew very well why. But one of your somewhat-parenting tacticswas making their mistakes not seem like a big deal. If you panicked, the child would panic. Simple as that.

Keep reading

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine

724 notes · View notes

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Text

take it easy, romeo

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 4,086

summary: The Soldat remembers one person through it all.

prompt: “Take it easy, Romeo.”

warnings: swearing, violence, sassy!Soldat

a/n: This was written for @moonbeambucky‘s 5K Writing Challenge! Congratulations! Also, this was the fic that was meant to have a song attached to it, too, for the aesthetic that the Guardians of the Galaxy fight scenes and Thor: Ragnarok fight scenes have, but it didn’t end up happening. If you feel like trying it, turn on ‘I Want to Break Free’ by Queen right when the flashback starts. But like I said, it didn’t really end up happening. Maybe next time. Anyways, feel free to reblog and tell me what you think!

The Asset was fucking tired. The mission should’ve been over by now. Take out three dumbasses. Easy enough, right?

Apparently fucking not.

There’s something vaguely familiar about the redhead, but he can’t quite place her. Like he knew he definitely shot her at one point. Hell, he could even see it in her face as she aimed her gun at him. She did not like him.

He really regrets not killing her as she shoots his goggles, rendering them useless. He fell back, sitting on the ground before pulling off the goggles. He tossed them to the side before getting back to his feet.

“Она у меня. Найди его,” he said to the HYDRA agent that stood beside him. The sun was beating down on him, sweat on his brow. His all black attire really wasn’t doing him any favors.

Keep reading

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #taras5kwritingchallenge #carol danvers x reader

2K notes · View notes

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Text

My lord this is good

i wished on the moon for you

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 9,879

summary: After losing Bucky, you were devastated. So when Howard Stark asks for volunteers for an experiment, you’re the first in line.

warnings: Some h*ckin’ words.

a/n: So like. This is lowkey inspired by old jazz music. I’ve always loved jazz, and I just wanted to write something surrounding it. Let me know what you think!

“Army camps are strange,” you said quietly, peering out the window curiously.

Your driver laughed a little, saying something about how you’d get used to it, but you paid him no mind. You were too busy looking at your new home. Men in army uniforms swarmed the area, and you realized just what you were getting yourself into as the car parked and the driver opened your door. The was muddy, crowded, and the air reeked of testosterone.

“Y/N!”

You turned at the sound of a familiar voice, grinning as you saw the familiar brunette walking across the yard to you. The men around her were parting like the Red Sea. Her hair was perfectly curled, as always, her lips painted a bright red. Peggy Carter was just as perfect as she had been in school.

Keep reading

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #40s!reader #40s!bucky #40s!reader x 40s!bucky #carol danvers x reader

4K notes · View notes

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Text

Together

Characters: Wonder Woman x Reader Warnings: Trace amounts of angst Synopsis: You love Diana but keep getting mixed signals from her, during a pick-up you decide to confront her.

“Stay put, this won’t take long”

Bruce climbs out of the car and walks into one of the crumbling buildings, he found heroes int he strangest of places and while the place looked to be a dump you trusted Bruce.

“Here, you look cold”

Diana drapes her scarf around you, wrapping it around your neck. She smiles, happy with her handiwork and then she just stops and stares at you.

Keep reading

#justice league #justice league fic #justice league fics #diana prince #diana prince x reader #wonder woman #wonder woman x reader #carol danvers x reader #cat grant x reader #cheryl x reader

239 notes · View notes

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Text

She's my soulmate...

Ok .. the year is 2017 and everything seemed normal by then …

Until people woke up with a red line attached to their finger that led (apparently) nowhere.

This led to a little messy chaos.

Until people learn that despite seeing the line this could not be bumped or touched.

It was like a holographic line. You could see it but not feel it.

China was the first country to speak on the subject, giving a certainty that the line was the Akai Ito or Red Ribbon of Destiny. A Chinese legend that the gods tied, at the time of their birth, an invisible red rope that would bind their soul mate.

“An invisible thread connects those that are destined to know each other …

Regardless of time, place or circumstance …

The yarn may stretch or entangle, but it will never broken ”

Doubt whether it was true or not, soon spread. Until it proved correct with the search for couples who had met through the line.

And the chaos spread again. This time in the form of many divorces and broken hearts.

Although they gave an answer to what would be the red thread. No one until then knew how to answer why it was only visible now.

And the point of all this is that, you didn’t care. It took a few months for apparently people to accept the line of fate in good faith. They seemed glad that now, there would be a guide to take them to their other half.

You on the other hand, was not happy.

You’ve lived a long time in this world and you’ve lost so many people (whether you were a soul mate or not) that your fear of losing your possible soul mate was greater than the enthusiasm of finding it.

You couldn’t go through this again.

Then you ignored the bright red thread on your finger and continued your life as naturally as you could.

You didn’t need a soul mate.

You were completely and entirely happy without one!

But apparently, when fate gives you a chance to pursue happiness, he doesn’t take no for an answer.

And found a way to deal with you and your tantrum.

A convenient and safe way.

A monster terrorizing the center of the city.

You thought to ignore it. There were heroes out there for that.

You could ignore the horrible, angry monster by destroying everything.

But you could not ignore innocent lives.

Then you took a nursing mask from a half-destroyed pharmacy, wrapped your scarf to cover up the rest of your face, and prevented the collapse of a building, holding part of its structure, freeing the passage and giving people time to leave.

Yeah .. You have super powers. Do not get too excited about it.

Where was the League when you needed it?

Releasing the structure of the building when it was confirmed that it was empty, you took a loose piece of concrete from the floor and threw it at the beast.

“Great idea, you idiot. Now he wants your head crushed on the asphalt”

If a bestial roar and a deadly gaze were any sign that you got a distraction for people to run away … Yeah, you were doing great.

For a crazy suicide … Of course.

Powers or not. You were not prepared for the impact.

And the energy shield you made to protect it, neither..

(Okay, maybe you was a little rusty with your powers. Who could blame you?)

When the beast prepared its arms ready for a second blow, you closed your eyes waiting for the second impact.

But he didn’t come.

“Are you well, are you hurt?”

Oh … that was Wonder Woman.

And that other one holding the monster with a trinket was Batman.

You gave a small smile. Your head felt dizzy and heavy.

“You’re late ..” was the last thing you could mutter before everything turned black.

Great first impression …

You shifted when you woke up and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before thinking: where the hell am I?!

“Hey guys, she’s up!” You heard a voice before you could sit and feel the approaching footsteps.

“How you feels?” You looked around before focusing on the Amazon goddess in front of you (literally ..)

“As if I had been kidnapped” you joked but all your play had a real background. Why didn’t they take you to a hospital, for example?

“Sorry about that. We think you called a little attention today and we didn’t want something bad to happen to you”

It made sense.

You shrugged before realizing that the beautiful woman in front of you looked uncomfortable.

“Besides…” she held out her hand, where the red thread glittered and you automatically looked at your hand, to see the same thread shining.

You were connected.

You were soul mates.

“Holy shit..”

OK. it’s 2:45 p.m. here and … I was not sleepy and this idea did not leave my head and here we are. I think it got a little big, so I’ll split it into two parts. Hope you like it..

#diana prince x reader #diana prince #wonder woman x reader #wonder woman #dc comics #justice league x reader #justice league #reader insert #dc #x reader

202 notes · View notes

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Text

the only reason i like valentine’s day is to make my OTP do romantic cuddly stuff

1K notes · View notes

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Text

i honestly dont get why people stopped reblogging things they like on here bc like what are you afraid of??? people thinking youre cringey?? guess what bitch! youre on tumblr! it’s all cringey! reblog everything you like and do it shamelessly no one fuckin cares

285K notes · View notes

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Text

My Friend, Death, And I

Meet Death

Pairing: Avengers x Reader

Word Count: 2000

Warnings: Possible trigger warnings.

(A/N): Not dead yet, just busy and being my usual mess. I’ve got 38 drafts and no life so that´s that.

Summary: And arguably the strangest thing of all was that being friends with death wasn’t strange at all.

“Will you tell me your name, kid?”

“Steve,” he clears his throat, “Steven Grand Rogers.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Steven Grand Rogers. I´m sure we´ll meet again,” you smile, eyes twinkling with something that he can´t quite place, “The question is whether we can get to meet before that.”

Keep reading

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes imagine #peter parker imagine #tony stark imagine #clint barton imagine #bruce banner imagine #my friend death and i

241 notes · View notes

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Text

My Friend, Death, And I Part.II

Befriend Death

Pairing: Avengers x Reader

Word Count: 2000

Warnings: None

(A/N): @callmebucky-doll, @justonemore-fic, @sebastians-stanner, @pamplemousse-m thought you might like it. Sorry to bother ya. Anyway, I now have a plan in mind for this story and this chapter is kind of just there and boring. So sorry for that.

Summary: And arguably the strangest thing of all was that being friends with death wasn’t strange at all.

Part I: Meet Death

“Wait, so you mean to tell me that nobody dies, while you’re here?!”

You laugh.

Keep reading

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #tony stark imagine #peter parker imagine #bruce banner imagine #clint barton imagine #my friend death and i #tony stark x reader #peter parker x reader #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagine

113 notes · View notes

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Text

My Friend, Death, And I Part.III

Die Young

Pairing: Avengers x Reader

Word Count: 1900

Warnings: Possible Trigger Warning

Summary: And arguably the strangest thing of all was that being friends with death wasn’t strange at all.

Part. I: Meet Death, Part. II: Befriend Death

You don´t show up for two months after that.

When asked whether you´ve gotten into any sort of disagreement, Peter simply shook his head and emphasized that all you really did was talk about the French, their revolution, casualties and baguette- when Peter got hungry again after some time.

“Briefly,” he begins with a frown, “we talked about how some famous people died. Freddie Mercury came up. Kurt Cobain did. The last Russian Czar.”

He shrugs. “I asked whether any of them had anything memorable to say.”

He scratches at the back of his head then and leans back, proceeding to tell the team that you had explained to him how all you ever got was something disgruntled or an occasional ‘shit’.

“Nothing of philosophical importance or anything that would´ve made much sense.” You had said.

Nothing even remotely memorable.

When you do however show up, it is on a day where the weather cannot quite seem to be able to decide whether it wants to rain or snow.

Peter is out on the sports ground, jogging along beside Ned on the track field, while the other boys are running ahead, occasionally turning their heads to sends snickers the duo’s way.

It´s right after they pass the bleachers that he sees you. You´re leaning on your scythe as usual, trailing your eyes about before you finally spot him and send a friendly smile his way.

Carefully, Peter slows his pace. To Ned´s questioning tilt of his head, Peter simply mouths a reassuring “I got a cramp, be right back.”

If Ned didn’t buy his lie, he doesn’t comment on it, something Peter is incredibly grateful for as he jogs towards the bleachers.

“What are you doing here?” He asks finally, making sure to turn his back to the track and crouch slightly to make his lie more believable. The words do come out harsher than intended.

“Thank you, I am happy to see you, too.”

“I´m serious,” he furrows his brows, and you can tell that he isn’t quite comfortable in growing bolder with Death, “I can´t talk with you right now.”

“I´m not here for you.”

Peter blinks. “Someone is going to die right now?”

You nod. By now the boys are passing Peter again, Flash sending a snide remark his way.

Peter sighs. “Is it Flash?”

He seems to mull his words over some, then shakes his head and stuffs his hands into his pant´s pockets when they start growing cold.

“That would be too good to be true.” He concludes finally.

Your lips twitch.

“No, it is not Flash. Though, I do suppose you know him.”

You point towards where the group of boys is running their rounds. Peter follows your finger with his gaze, and startles.

“Ned?”

You nod, keeping your own pair of eyes firm on the boys that have finished running half of the track circle by now, hot on Ned´s tail.

“His time has come.”

“That- “ Peter bristles, “That impossible! He´s too young!”

“Age is of no matter here, kid.”

“But how-“

He watches your head tilt and cuts himself off, twisting around to see Flash closing in on Ned, smirk in place. There is equipment lying of on the side and Peter blanches at the image that paints itself in his head.

“Oh god,” he chokes, “I have to get to him before it´s too late!”

He doesn’t hear the warning that leaves your lips as he sprints off. He doesn’t want to hear it.

Flash yells Ned´s name. Peter quickens his pace to catch up. He eats up three quarters of the track field in ten seconds flat. Ned and Flash are some meters ahead of him, Flash reaching out to push Ned. Peter pushes on harder to get into arms reach.

“Don´t touch him!”

He screams, making a grab for Flash´s shoulder. He misses barely so and Flash grunts in surprise.

“Don´t-“ He attempts another grab, skims Flash´s shoulder and sends him tumbling forwards- taking Ned with.

The sound of a body hitting the floor hits his ears, followed by a second ‘Thud’ and a more poignant crunching noise.

Peter screws his eyes shut.

When he opens them again, he is facing Flash- on his hands and knees- staring wide-eyed at the unmoving body below his.

There´s a puddle of red forming beneath Ned´s head, the sight of the gooey substance enough to send Flash scrambling back in panic.

A startled gasp for air, two, then three, then light is breaking through the corners of Ned´s mouth. A fourth and Peter is left watching, shocked, how his best friend steps out of his own body and turns to face him.

He looks like he wants to say something, but before he can even open his mouth- before Peter can even form the thought to make a grab for him- you’ve appeared by the boy’s side and whisked him away into your hold.

“I warned you, Peter. I told you that you can´t prevent it from happening.”

You´ve disappeared before he can bite anything back. People already circling the three of them.

Flash, in a desperate attempt to somehow make this right, started CPR some moments ago. He’s fighting his tears, pleading Ned to wake up when his friends drag him back in order for the teacher to get to him.

Students are panicking. Some are pacing the grounds. Others have long since reached for their phones to either share the story with the world or call their parents.

Peter does none of that.

He settles onto the ground, as close to Ned as he can get, and stares as his teacher attempts to save the boy’s life.

It’s useless, but Peter seems to be the only one to have accepted that.

Two weeks come and go.

Michelle keeps him at hugging distance throughout- killing him with kindness that he´s entirely sure he´s undeserving of.

She´s the first to approach him after the incident- long before Tony or his aunt even get whiff of what occurred at school.

And she hugs him then. She cries with him. And she stays.

She stays throughout the ugly rumours that spread faster than wildfire. She stays when everyone keeps their distance from the one responsible for Ned’s death and Flash’s admission into a psychiatry.

Tony tries to do the same. He tries to be the father figure Peter needs more than ever now, tries to be the ear to listen and the shoulder the boy can cry on. He tries. He really does.

Same cannot be said for you.

You keep your deliberate distance for the better part of three weeks, as if sensing that Peter would be nothing but completely and utterly furious with you.

Surely, you had warned him, and yes, Peter did ignore you, but his best friend died- at an age where people should not even be thinking about death.

When you do appear, you do so when he’s sitting on a rooftop, mask thrown across it in anger. Crying.

“Evening.”

You greet him, strolling up behind him with grace that one bringing nothing but suffering should not even have.

“I brought you a scalding canine,” you continue when he doesn’t answer, outstretching your hand to show him your wrapped present.

He beats it out of your hand and you sigh, reaching out to hold onto your scythe with both hands now.

“I see you still hold a grudge,” you begin, slowly, turning to face the back of his head, “even though it is clearly you who made a mistake. Not me.”

There´s a lag. A moment of silence with tension so thick you could cut it with your scythe.

Then, “He shouldn’t have died. He was too young.”

You wait a moment to see whether he has anything more to add. When it becomes apparent that he is finished, you put down your scythe and gently lower yourself next to him on the edge of the roof.

“That may be true, but you must understand that his time still has come,” you squint at the setting sun, “Death get´s everyone sooner or later.”

“Then you shouldn’t have gotten him.”

You sigh softly. “That is not how this works, boy.”

“I wish it did.”

“Occasionally, I wish so too,” you admit, slowly lowering your hood.

Peter scoffs. “Oh, really?”

You nod. “Please do understand that this is my job and there are certain rules that I need to abide by. I cannot let somebody live just because I like him. Likewise, I cannot get someone because I do not like him. Though, most of the time, I do not care either way.”

You pause for a moment and turn back to the skyline before you, watching the last bit of sunlight disappear behind the skyscrapers.

“Now,” you continue lowly, carefully, “You can blame me for it or you can leave it be and move on. Life does, after all, go on.”

He purses his lips and reaches to wipe at his eyes with his sleeve.

“But I want him back.”

Your lips twitch downwards slightly and you turn to fixate him with a serious expression.

“He won’t come back. You can cry about it all you want. It will change nothing.”

Peter stays silent for a long while and you wait, patiently so, until the boy leans back and falls flat onto his back, sighing tiredly.

“You know, sometimes I wish I could ask God why the good die young,” he mutters.

“Why ask him when you’ve got me?”

“Well, why do they?” He closes his eyes.

You chuckle mirthlessly. “Because that´s just the way life goes.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

You recline onto your back with an approving hum. “I’m afraid I do fail to make sense sometimes, boy.”

He hums quietly and seems to ponder your words for a moment, then opens his eyes again and swallows hard. “You know, I´m scared of dying.”

A wry smile stretches your lips. “Why would you be? Am I that terrifying?”

“Honestly,” he turns his head to look at you, “yes.”

“Well,” you close your own eyes for a moment, “I do not think you should be.”

You grow quiet, then open your eyes and turn to face the cloudy sky.

“Just look at your life as a book, boy. Every book has an ending, does it not? Still, you read the book. Let yourself be submerged in a world forever beyond your grasp. You cry with the characters, laugh with them- experience all the facades of the story right by their side. You do not stop to worry over the unavoidable end, do you?”

He shakes his head.

“Then why should you do so with your own life?”

He shrugs, and you sigh, carefully stretching your limbs as you sit up again. “The way I see it, I am the only promise in life. The rest is up to you. So, why not make most of the time you have on this plane of existence?”

“What if you fail though? What if your whole life turns out to be a huge waste of time? A disappointment?”

“What if you never even try it? What if you waste away what time you have, cowering somewhere- too afraid to make a move?”

You counter, standing to your feet to tower over him.

“What if you miss your opportunity? Your chance at something great just because the fear of failure is bigger than the desire for trying?” You continue, arching your brow at him in question.

He stays silent. You reach for your scythe.

“Audeo, boy,” you turn back to look at him over your shoulder with a kind smile, “Audeo vivere.”

And with that you´re gone.

“I dare to live?” Peter mumbles.

“I dare to live,” he repeats and falls back against the rooftop.

74 notes · View notes

imaginerequestpage · 5 years

Note

Hello!! If youre up for it, could you do hela x reader where reader is somewhat like a healer or doctor and its mostly about life and death being intertwined. Haha idk?? Its alright if you dont want to since youve been getting lots of hela requests. Thanks💜

I never get tired of Hela requests. I love her!))

Word count: 1973

Author’s note: This fic is set when Hela was younger, still conquering the nine realms with Odin.

Warnings: Witty banter, angst if you squint.

Annnnddd she was back again, right on schedule. It seems that whenever you were particularly busy or overwhelmed, she decided it would be the perfect opportunity to take up your time and company, even when you had little to none to give. She was manipulative that one, using her status as Princess and General to pull you from your duties to humor her in debate. Though...manipulative wasn’t exactly the correct terminology for her...no. Manipulative would produce the assumption that she lies to accumulate what she wants. But she was perhaps the most straight forward person you had had the pleasure or displeasure of meeting. You hadn’t decided yet. She was incredibly blunt but also incredibly charming in her own way, especially with how she crafted her sentences. Even when you disagreed with what she said, you still found yourself genuinely interested in what she had to say. And that was the most annoying thing about her, it seemed. She had a completely different view on life and death than you. It was rather informative to see what the confident and closed General thought on issues other than war. Although it was true that you valued her words and opinions, you weren’t very partial to her company. In the words of your sister “She is like a fire, mesmerizing to look at, making you warm inside, but if you get too close she’ll burn you.” Wise words that you made sure to take into account when speaking to her. She was certainly an interesting one, that Hela. That was why you didn’t try and stop her when she came strutting into your apothecary with a roughish smile upon her lips. This oughta be good.

“Hello, your highness. Whatever can I help you with on this incredibly busy and time consuming day.” You greeted flamboyantly, performing a small and curt curtsy. Goodness knows you’ve done that so many times you could practically call yourself an expert.

“Why hello, (Y/n). How are you on this ‘incredibly busy and time consuming day’ that happens to be rather devoid of life indeed.” She gestured around you, pointing out that there was no one there but the two of you, effectively calling you out on your bluff. You rolled your eyes, never being one to hide your distain. “How observant. Perhaps your eyes could be of better use on the training grounds?”

She paid no mind to your apparent snark, she found it endearing if she was to be honest. “I cannot very well train when I am ailing.” She lifted her arm, revealing her wrist to you, displaying a rather swollen appendage. You could barely stop yourself from gasping. It looked horribly painful, and that was a lot coming from you. It was truthfully one of the worst closed injuries you had yet to see. “How are you so calm about this? This looks to be an injury most unpleasant in nature.” Your practiced and well meaning fingers brushed across the wound. She flinched, yanking her hand from your grasp. “Don’t touch it!”

You were stunned. You had never seen her hurt before, always so proud and dignified. And now here she was, flinching and yelping like a frightened child. It was...adorable in a way. And such sweet sweet revenge. You would never let her live this down.

“Oh calm down and let me do my task.” You took her hand back, albeit gently. You may find her company loathsome, but you were still a healer and she still royalty. Injured royalty. Plus you might be executed if you refused to help. She probably wouldn;t but you never trusted royalty. You examined the wound carefully. You were surprised to find the bone irregularly situated. “This is an old wound. You’ve sustained it around a month and a half ago. The Battle for Alfheim? The bone was broken.” You evaluated aloud, rubbing your thumb along the wound, feeling for the place she felt the most pain.

“It was hit by an enemy blade.” She explained. You grimaced surly. ‘Enemy.’ More like innocent. Those poor people did nothing wrong, nothing to invite such tyranny from Asgard. Yet so many Asgardians saw them as vermin. An underdeveloped realm waiting to be conquered. But you kept your political opinions out of this. “What do you mean by “was”? Has it healed? Why does it pain me so?” You were surprised by how demure her questions were. She was similar to a young child, uncharacteristically worried about an injury. For the first time in her presence, you felt guilty for telling her something unfavorable.

“It was broken, yes. But you left it alone for so long the bone started to mend on its own-” “That is good-” “Let me finished, please.” You interrupted her interruption, taking pride in her slightly taken aback expression. “It mended itself in an irregular way. You won’t be able to use it correctly like this. It’s angled upward, pushing against your wrist from within. I’m going to have to break it again for it to be able to heal properly.” You stated, your eyes briefly flitting to her for perhaps a warning that she would lash out. But she nodded calmly. Though she seemed apprehensive.

“Very well. I have felt worse pain.” She spoke quietly, almost eerily so. You wondered what could’ve been worse than a deliberate break such as this was seen as less. But you were a healer, not a gossip.

“Don’t worry...I’ll get you something to bite on to soothe the pain.” She managed a smirk.

“That was, if my memory is in tact despite this injury, the first time your words to me weren’t either apathetic, disrespectful, or uncaring.” Oh how you wanted to wipe that smirk off. She could be so infuriating at times.

“My job is to care. Once you’re out of here my job will be finished.” You reminded her, perhaps adding a little more fire then you meant to. You turned from her, searching through the herbs you had gathered this morning. You hadn’t had time to sort them before she had come in. There have been a rather large number of injured soldiers in need of this specific herb that you had run out quickly. You were lucky you had some, though really she was the lucky one. You plucked the green and blue plant from the basket, briefly glancing at it to make absolute sure it was clean. Poisoning a royal was a crime, accidental or not. “This should help a bit.” You mumbled mutely, meaning to reassure and soothe her as much as you could. She nodded, allowing you to place the bitter tasting plant between her teeth.

You positioned your hands so they gripped at her arm, preparing for the procedure. Her skin was soft. You didn’t mean to admire, but you were surprised. You had figured her arms would be littered with scars and wounds galore. You couldn’t allow yourself to be distracted though. 3...2...1… SNAP. She winced, biting down into the plant with squinted eyes. Overall she didn’t exhibit the behavior you thought she would. Most would be screaming and sobbing, at the very least scream out an inappropriate term to release some pent up frustration. But she simply winced. One would expect such a reaction from a pin prick rather than someone forcefully breaking your wrist. You shook your head and got back to work, bandaging and placing a makeshift cast around the wound. “There. It’ll take a bit to heal, but you won’t die.” You joked.

She hummed, relaxing a bit. “I suppose you’ve seen a lot of that in your profession. Death.” She commented. You frowned. You never liked lingering on the topic of Death. You’ve seen enough of it to last multiple lifetimes. And each death you’ve witnessed weighed down on your conscience. Still the lifeless eyes of your deceased patients haunted you, the eyes of your mother most of all. That was why you had chosen to become a healer. Hela may protect Asgard, but you were a protector of Life. Nonetheless you nodded. “Indeed. More than I’d like.”

“I’ve seen my fair share of Death as well. On the battlefield. Glorious, isn’t it?” You recoiled. She was back. Not the hurt princess any longer, but the ruthless General of Death. The Hela you loathed. You didn’t even think to hide your disdain. “Glorious? You truly think death to be a gift, don’t you?” You dared to criticize. The two of you often had these little quarrels about Death, but never had she said something as bold as that.

“Well...of course. Life is a burden forced upon so many. We have to live through so much in our lifetime. Would it not be far easier, far more logical to simply...relent. To relax is truly a gift. Surely you cannot disagree?” She recited the lines almost like a prayer, as a lesson she had been taught from a young age. Sometimes you wonder what would have happened if she had not been raised by Odin. You give her a look that can only be described with “Sayeth what?” “That, my princess, is the most ridiculous reasoning I ever did hear.” You smirked at her narrowed eyes.

“Ah yes, I had forgotten. You’re a healer. Of course you believe in the ‘gift of Life.” She rolled her eyes in that annoyingly conceited way she does. Though she didn’t look exasperated. She had the look about her that just screamed ‘I am right and you are most definitely incorrect.’

“Ah yes, I had forgotten you are a bit of a tyrant.” You mimicked under your breath as you turned from her. It was certainly an unwise decision, insulting the Princess while she was directly behind you, With a knife at her disposal. But you could never hold your tongue, and you never intended an attempt.

“What was that? Choose your next words wisely, healer, for the may be your last.” She threatened calmly, her eyes never betraying her rage. Welp. You had already dug your grave, might as well fill it.

“Oh please do. That would be most kind. After all, death is a gift, in your own words.” The young General faltered. You had her there. It was obvious she wasn’t used to people challenging her. And as always, you never knew how to halt your passion. “It seems we are at a stand still. If you kill me, you would be giving the gift of Death. But if you spare me, I would then receive the gift of Life. Either way, you would be deemed generous and kind, something we both know you despise.” You had won. You were sure of it. Until the ends of her lips curled upwards in devious delight.

“I have always wondered why you are so far from my lodgings. You are a healer. Would it not be easier for goth you and my soldiers if you were to...relocate.” Oh no. She couldn’t be suggesting what you thought she was suggesting. “Would it not be more convenient to come stay?” The glorious golden castle Odin was devised was still being constructed, so a smaller fort was made for temporary lodging of the royal family and their soldiers. This sudden change in demeanor was drastic and unexpected...and unwanted. Your mouth hung open as you tried to formulate a coherent protest. She stopped that with a finger on your chin, closing your mouth. “Besides, I need someone to check up on my injury, make sure your General is ready to conquer Jotunnheim by next moon. Consider it a change to show me how Life And Death can be intertwined.”

According to the words of your sister: You had gotten too close. You had been burned.

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel cinematic universe #avengers #avengers x reader #mcu #hela #hela goddess of death #hela odinson #hela odinsdottir #hela x reader

58 notes · View notes