#So much ANGST

[ash-and-fog]

I love making myself cry :D

[sp0o0kylights]

I keep seeing gif sets and photos of Steve's injuries from fighting the bats and I keep thinking someone should write a fanfic where he successfully defends everyone in that scene and then just *drops.*

He's done. Taken out. Needs serious medical care and cannot be easily moved. Is trying to keep a straight face but keeps hissing through his teeth, voice breaking, whining and wiggling away when people try to touch him.

Cue Robin and Nancy setting out to figure out how the hell to get out (and get Steve help) while Eddie is left behind.

With Steve.

In the Upside Version of Steve's house.

Alone.

For a long ass time.

Then Steve starts admitting things to him and Eddie thinks it's a good distraction at first until he slowly realizes that these are Steve's confessions.

His promises to the kids and Robin that he's now passing on to Eddie, because Steve thinks he's going to die.

And that Eddie cannot, will not, let him.

Even if he has to fight Steve himself on the matter.

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl (Chapter Four)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): continuation of angst, insight into reader's home life (absent parents, poverty), emotional damage

Word Count: 1600, Part 4/?

Summary: Reader and Regina try to cope in the aftermath of their confusing and sudden separation. Regina keeps up appearances, Reader doesn't feel like herself.

@sapphicantics saw it first <3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

The rest of the day passed with no word from Regina. 

After Regina let you out of her car, you walked a few minutes down a dirt road to to the trailer park you called home. Your mom was predictably passed out in front of the TV that sat on the table in the middle of the Jayco trailer. Dad wasn’t around. Also predictable. 

You grabbed a few things you needed and checked the refrigerator for something to eat just in case but there was only a half empty case of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

The rest of your day was spent walking to the 24 hour gym to grab a shower. To McDonald’s for a meal. Then to the library to finish your own homework. 

Weekends were the hardest. Two fewer meals a day when you weren’t at school. Too much time to kill. Sundays were the worst of it because the library closed at 5 instead of 9.

You were trying to do your history readings but your thoughts kept frustratingly drifting to Regina. You thought about how if she knew the full truth, she’d be pissed at you for not saying anything, and then she’d feel guilty for making you leave, and then she’d be pissed all over again. 

You wanted to hit yourself. You’d only really known Regina for a week and already you were thinking about her like she was your best friend in the world. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. 

At 4:50 pm, someone lightly tapped your shoulder, waking you up from an accidental nap hunched over your books.

“Gotta pack up sweetie, I’m sorry,” the librarian gave you a pitying smile. 

You blinked and nodded, “sorry for falling asleep.”

“Don’t worry. Have you eaten today?”

You nodded again.

“Alright, well grab something from the pantry on your way out anyways.”

“Thanks.”

You had gotten into the habit of getting your breakfast from the cafeteria and then sitting out in the front courtyard to read and people watch as your classmates arrived for school. You didn’t realize that you were able to recognize the sound of Regina’s car specifically until you were looking up from your book and watching it pull into her spot in the lot. 

The blonde opened her door and threw her hair over her shoulder. She wore sunglasses, making her expression unreadable as she strode across the pavement. 

You clocked Gretchen and Karen’s approach just a second before it seemed Regina did and you watched her take a deep breath in before they pounced on her and started yapping her ears off. 

None of that came as a shock to you. You figured she would uphold her usual even if was still as upset as you were. What happened next was what rendered you paralyzed. 

As the girls made their way toward the school building, some guy intercepted them and slid in between Regina and Karen. He did that stupid thing where he ran his hand through his hair and then stretched his arm out as if he was yawning just so he could drape it around Regina’s shoulders. 

She didn’t react. 

He then leaned in to apparently kiss Regina. At that, she did turn her head so that he could only plant one on her cheek, but still. 

You were aware that you were staring, mouth fully agape, eyes wide, as the group of four walked past you. You didn’t care. The only thing you cared about was the fact that Regina glanced back at you over the shoulder that the dude was possessively gripping. You couldn’t see her eyes past the dark lenses she was wearing and all you could think about for the rest of the day was how much you wished you could have seen her expression. 

During the chem quiz, you kept glancing across the room at her. Trying to check in, catch her eye, anything. She never looked up from her paper. Not once. 

When time was up, you turned your quiz in feeling fairly confident that you performed terribly on it. You watched Regina get up from her desk and check over her answers again before she looked up and met your eyes. 

If it hadn’t been for your teacher telling everyone to find their seats again, you might have stood there and held eye contact with Regina forever. 

She gave you a pained smile and then cleared her throat before walking up the aisle between the rows of desks and handing her quiz in. 

You sat back down at your desk and watched her the entire time it took for her to return to her desk and sit. She didn’t look at you again, but she moved her hands to her lap and picked at her cuticles for the rest of class. 

When you were all dismissed, you tried to catch her on your way out, going as far as to call out to her but the woman knew how to move with purpose and she was well ahead of you. 

At the same time, your teacher called your name, “stay a second, will you?”

You sighed and turned around.

Your teacher was holding yours and Regina’s quizzes in each hand and glancing them over, “well, by the looks of this, she has improved remarkably. However, your quiz…”

You winced, “I know.”

“If I didn’t know your handwriting I would have to assume that you swapped papers with her or something. This isn’t you.”

You nodded, “I just had a really bad day. I don’t think I’ll screw up this bad again.”

“Well, your grade is going to be fine but, are you okay? She’s not giving you trouble is she?”

You glanced at the classroom door that Regina left through then shook your head and faked a smile, “no, no. Not at all. She’s… she’s been great to tutor.”

“Okay, well, if you need anything, you’ll let me know?”

You nodded, slung your bag over your shoulder and walked out the door. 

You knew when you agreed to tutor Regina that there’d be a chance she might get under your skin. She is Regina George, after all. You just never expected that the getting under your skin would be because you were falling for the girl and unable to do a single thing about it. 

As it turned out, though, Regina wasn’t done getting under your skin for the day. 

The blonde was leaning against your locker when you approached it. She was examining her nails but then she looked up at you and dropped her hands to her side. She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it again. 

You stared at her expectantly, “well?”

“Um, could you come with me, please?”

“Why?”

“To talk.”

“Talk to me here.”

“I… I can’t.”

“No? Do you need your boyfriend or something?”

Regina clenched her jaw. 

You felt a pang in your chest. The words this isn’t you echoed in your mind. 

She frowned and looked down at her hands. 

You sighed, “where did you want to talk?”

She met your eyes again, “bathroom?”

You nodded and followed her down the hall. Once inside the restroom, she checked the other stalls for any stragglers that hadn’t gone to lunch yet. 

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and waited for her to talk. 

She faced you from a respectful distance, “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry again.”

“What are you sorry for, exactly?”

“For… well, all of it.”

“What was the plan? Were you going to lead me on, maybe start a secret situationship, keep me wrapped around your finger while you kept up appearances at school? But then you flipped out, and now you’re sorry that you did it, or are you sorry that it didn’t go the way you wanted? Did you think that maybe if you apologized you could try again?” 

Regina’s eyes went wide and she shook her head, “n-no! That… that’s not… I didn’t…” she stepped closer to you and you stepped back.

“No, actually, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Because you tried to warn me, didn’t you? You said that I should stop being so nice so that I wouldn’t get taken advantage of, right? So I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you.” As you continued, you started crying, and so did she. 

“When did it start with the guy? Before? Or last night? Does he make you happy, Regina? Actually, nevermind, it’s none of my business. It’s not like we’re in a relationship, right?”

Regina sobbed, “please, please just… please listen… I didn’t set out to hurt you… I… I got scared…”

You wiped your face of the tears you’d shed, “I’m sorry, Regina… I don’t actually want to be mean…” 

She stepped closer to you again, “I… I don't want to lose you as a friend because of this.”

You shook your head, “fuck, I don’t know Regina… I think it’d be best if we just… left each other alone…”

“No, wait… I don’t want that.”

“I’ll still tutor you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“That isn’t what I’m worried about!”

You took a step forward and closed the space between you and Regina, “then what do you want?”

She seemed to cower from the question, “I don’t know.”

You nodded. You met her eyes and you felt your lip quiver, so you turned your face away, “then… I guess… if you figure it out, let me know. I… I’m upset right now but… I don’t want to lose you either.” 

With that, you turned around and left. 

Regina didn’t see you skip lunch to go outside and cry until the next class period. 

You didn’t see Regina go into one of the bathroom stalls and do the same.

Next Chapter

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 5 Nevermore

Chp. 5 Summary: It's hard to understand why everything feels so right. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, language, heavy kissing, unprotected piv sex, semi-rough sex, creampie, praise kink, (kinda) size kink, aftercare, fluff and a LOT of angst, light banter, lots of emotions, mentions of past trauma, brief flashback of trauma, another cliffhanger (sorry) A/N: Well, if you're here, I hope you're prepared for what's coming. A HUGE shoutout to @loonmartell for helping co-conspire the trajectory of this story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it as always <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in—

“Miss Smith?” 

Your head jerked up at the sound, and the pencil you were drawing circles with fell against your desk. Bradley, one of your students, was standing at the edge of your desk with his test in hand.

“Sorry about that, sweetie,” you smiled, extending a hand. “Thank you.”

Bradley eyed you curiously before turning and skipping back to his desk. You dragged a hand over your face, wanting to crawl into the furthest corner of the world and never be seen again. Beth’s words had been plaguing you for days since you called her. Over and over again, they annihilated your thoughts, a constant broken record that you couldn’t shut off. You still had your nightly calls with Joel, talking past midnight and falling asleep together, but you kept making excuses not to see him. 

“I’ve got lesson plans to make,” you lied.

“I’ll help,” Joel had offered.

“You’re a distraction.”

“I ain’t that bad,” he huffed.

The next night, you lied and said you were going out with Maria, which was an even worse lie since you were avoiding her at all costs. Telling Beth the news was one thing, but telling Maria was another matter. She was nosey and a bit too loud-mouthed to trust. The last thing you wanted was for the entire faculty to know your dirty secrets. Joel had to remain a secret—at least for now.

It’s not like you wanted to avoid Joel; you were just scared. You were not ready for this new territory, and if Beth was anywhere near correct in her assumptions, it only made you want to shy away more. The only problem was parent-teacher conferences this week, meaning you’d have to see Joel and Sarah…together.

The class bell rang, and your free period between classes began. You dropped your head on the desk and took a few deep breaths, trying to wrangle some semblance of calm back into your body. The final class of the day would be Sarah’s, and you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to see her. The blaring reminder that her dad had fucked you sore over the weekend still hung over your head, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for it. How was your fall break, Sarah? Oh yeah, mine was great. Your dad fucked me so hard I ended up having a complete breakdown. 

Fuck. 

You wanted the day to be over. 

The free period went by much faster than you wanted, and as you watched the next slew of kids take their seats, you made a conscious effort not to stare at Sarah as she walked in. She wore her usual smile, the impression of her dimples digging into her cheeks. Some wild thought popped into your head that you had no time to recover from: if you and Joel went any further, God help you, you’d be Sarah’s step-mom one day. Your stomach rolled with nausea as you tried to will those thoughts away. Joel wouldn’t stick around that long; you were a lost cause. There was no chance that would happen. Right? 

Clearing your throat, you rose from your desk and made your way over to the projector to set up the lesson for the day. Since the school year was nearing Halloween, you decided it would be fun to teach Edgar Allen Poe, completely forgetting you had chosen “The Raven”—which was about losing someone. This would have a bite to it that you weren’t ready for.

“Okay, everyone,” you announced. “Did we all finish the reading assignment this week?”

There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement, and you quickly shifted to the first few slides of your presentation. 

“Alright, so who can tell me the overall theme for Poe’s ‘The Raven’?”

Georgia, one of your top students, shot her hand up without a beat.

“Yes, Georgia?”

“It’s about his grief for losing Lenore,” she answered.

“Good,” you smiled. “Can anyone tell me what other theme the poem contains?”

“Madness!” Another student chimed in, causing an uproar of laughter amongst the students.

“Okay, okay, settle down. Very good, you guys.”

You switched to the next slide, staring blankly at the words typed out. Lenore is gone forever. Something struck you as you silently read it, realizing you weren’t too far off from Poe in his grief. Although Bennett wasn’t dead, he wasn’t coming back. That fact hadn’t hurt as deeply throughout the last few weeks, especially with Joel around, but it still threw salt in the open wounds still scattered over your heart. 

“In stanza two,” you cleared your throat. “In stanza two, Poe refers to Lenore as ‘nameless,’ which can imply that she has died, and he’s now consumed with grief. Where else did you guys find his grief prominent?”

Georgia quickly raised her hand again, and you motioned for her to speak. 

“In stanza four, he talks about his dreams, which I think he means he’s dreaming of her to return to him. But if she’s dead, there’s no way she’s going to come back,” Georgia said.

Fuck. You felt the sting of tears rim your eyes and briefly paused to gather your bearings. Bennett left. He left, and you had spent years dreaming he would return. 

“Good,” you choked out.

You glanced around the room, your eyes connecting with Sarah’s. It took all your strength not to break down and cry as she studied you with the same concerned furrow in her brows as her dad would do. 

Clicking to the next slide, you exhaled, focusing on the following theme to discuss. Madness. 

“Now, with the theme of madness, where do we see this begin? Obviously, the dreams can be interpreted as his descent into madness, but what else do we find?” You asked. 

To your detriment, Sarah was the one to raise her hand.

“Sarah,” you sighed, nodding.

“It’s the raven,” she said plainly. “The raven is what drives him mad.”

“What does he do to drive Poe mad?” You questioned.

“The raven only says one word,” she explained. “And that word drives him mad until the end of the poem.

“And why does it drive him mad?”

Sarah shifted in her seat, looking around at her classmates before responding.

“Because it’s the answer Poe doesn’t want to hear. Poe doesn’t want to be reminded that Lenore is dead, but that’s the only response the raven will give.”

You were swaying in place, trying to hold yourself together as the memories started ricocheting back into your mind. Now wasn’t the time to collapse, not in front of twenty students staring at you, confused and concerned. You only responded with a nod and flipped the projector off.

“Good job, you guys. Now, does anyone have any questions on this unit? Any questions about the stanza format or the themes?”

Sarah raised her hand again.

“Did his madness kill him?” She asked.

“Who?”

“Poe.”

“Oh, um, no. Well, it’s a mystery, really. Some people say he died of delirium, so, I guess, madness. But other people speculate he drank himself to death.”

The class grew morbidly quiet, which made it harder for you to continue. No one else spoke up after Sarah, so you resorted to handing out the quiz and sinking back into your desk chair.

One by one, the students came up to turn in their quiz, and you averted your gaze each time with a nonchalant ‘thank you.’ When the final bell finally sounded through the room, you hardly had the energy to wave goodbye. 

Sarah was the last to leave, and that same concerned look lingered on her face as she shuffled out. 

That night, you didn’t pick up the phone when Joel called. You stared as it rang repeatedly, watching the light fade from the screen when the ringing stopped. You buried your head under the covers and tried to sleep, but then the nightmares started.

You woke up to your alarm, hyperventilating and drenched in sweat. Squinting at the morning sun streaming through the blinds, you grabbed your phone to check the time. Your fingers froze as you read the screen.

Seven missed calls from Joel

Two voicemails from Joel

With shaky fingers, you pressed play on the first voicemail.

“Hey baby, it’s me. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I’m hopin’ you’re just asleep, but if you’re up, please call me.”

Then you played the next.

“Baby, it’s me again. I miss you, and I’m worried ‘bout you. Please don’t shut me out, okay? I just wanna hear your voice and hear ‘bout your day. If you don’t wanna talk, that's okay. I understand. Just please lemme know you’re alright. I’ll drive my ass out to you if I need to just to make sure you’re okay. Call me when you get this. G’night, baby.”

You dug your knuckles into your eyes to try and force the tears back. Last night, you had the worst of the nightmares: the memory of something you tried to forget. You hadn’t touched that memory in so long. It was just the brutal realization you were truly at fault for everything with Bennett. No matter how badly you wanted to blame him, it was always your fault. 

Glancing back at your phone, you rechecked the time: 7:35. Fuck, you were running late, and you really didn’t want to call Joel back right now. At least not right now. You’d muster the energy and strength to do it later, but you needed to gather yourself and get ready for work right now. Tossing off the sweat-slick sheets, you rushed into the bathroom and quickly showered. You couldn’t bother to put makeup on, so you opted to go without it and found a simple dress to wear. It was still in the high eighties in Austin, and a dress was the easiest option for the day. 

Scrambling for your purse and keys, you ran to the garage to start your car and head to the school. 

It wasn’t until you pulled into your parking spot that you realized you left your phone on the nightstand. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Maria questioned, sipping her lukewarm coffee. 

She had nagged you into spending your free period in her classroom, demanding that you tell her everything that you had been withholding. You sat on the edge of her desk, your dress flowing over your knees as you stared out her class windows. 

“Nothing, Maria,” you lied. 

She said your name sternly, forcing your eyes to snap to hers. Her usual chipper demeanor was replaced with that ‘mother’ look, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed. 

“Something is going on,” she pressed. “Could have something to do with Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. 

“You did it, huh?” She raised a brow. 

You exhaled heavily, nodding your head—no point in lying now. 

“We talked on the phone the entire break, and when I got home, he insisted on taking me on a date. Then one thing led to another… and yeah, we had sex.”

Maria squealed, clapping her hands and grinning wide. You stared at her blankly, unamused by her reaction to your words. 

“This isn’t a good thing, Maria,” you said pointedly. 

“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re finally putting yourself out there! Oh my god, was it good?” 

“It was,” you sighed. “It was good—really good. He’s so sweet and caring.”

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” she interjected. 

“But I can’t let it go any further,” you finished. 

Maria leaned forward and placed her hand on your knee. 

“Does he make you happy?” She asked softly. 

“So fucking happy, Maria. I hate it.”

“You deserve to be happy, sweetie. That’s all I’ve been saying for years, and now you have it! Don’t force it to fail before it even begins. I saw the way he looked at you at the father-daughter dance. You can’t fake that.”

“I know. I know. I just—ugh,” you slid off the desk with a groan. “He’s too good for me. I’m still trying to get over Bennett and everything that happened. He doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all my misery. That’s not fair to him.” 

You were pacing around the room, your eyes darting between the science posters hanging along the walls of Maria’s classroom. You heard her desk chair scrape against the floor as she approached you. She gripped you by the shoulders and leveled you with a heavy stare, but her eyes remained soft. 

“He’s still around, right? I don’t think he’s going anywhere, sweetie. If anything, I think he’s in it for the long haul.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you leaned into her, letting her wrap you up in a motherly embrace. She rubbed circles against your back, hushing you as you wept quietly. 

The rest of the day passed by in a numbing blur. You packed your things quietly and headed to your car, ready to drown yourself in a glass of wine. 

Joel’s truck was parked in front of your house as you turned the corner onto your street. His tall figure was leaning against the driver’s door; his eyes focused on your car as you pulled into the driveway. You inhaled sharply before putting your car in park, mentally preparing yourself for whatever anger he might unleash. 

You barely shut the car door before Joel had his arms around you, tugging you into a warm embrace. You couldn’t make sense of it; why wasn’t he mad? He should be angry at you. 

“Joel?” you whispered, your fingers twisting into his shirt. He smelt of cedarwood and smoke, the lingering scent of the workday still on his clothes. 

“I was so fuckin’ worried ‘bout you,” he muttered into your hair. “Been tryin’ to get ahold of you all day.”

“I left my phone at home this morning,” you explained. “I listened to your voicemails from last night. I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I was just running late this morning.”

“Why didn’t you pick up last night?’ He asked, pulling away. 

“I needed some space. I’m just trying to figure this all out. I want you—I want this. I just don’t know how to be fully vulnerable. I know that’s silly to say since I’ve cried every time I’ve seen you.” You laughed at the thought of it.

“You coulda just told me that, baby. I would’ve understood,” Joel sighed. 

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“Of course not,” he smiled softly. “Had me worryin’ like crazy, but I ain’t mad. I know this is all new, and you’re scared. Just don’t shut me out, ‘kay? I wanna talk to you and understand what’s goin’ on with you. I told you I wanna work on it with you.”

“I’m s—.”

Joel was pressing his lips against yours before you could say those two words. The kiss was all-consuming and tender, strong enough to erase every thought in your mind. Your mouths moved in unison, tongues intertwined and exploring. It was dizzying to be kissed this fervently; the first kiss couldn’t hold a torch to this moment. You tangled your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, slanting your lips to open yourself even more to him. Joel’s hands twisted into the fabric of your dress that hugged your hips and pulled you tighter against his body. You whimpered at the feeling of his cock straining in his jeans, and he hauled you upwards until you were wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Spinning you around, he pinned you to the metal of your car door, breaking away from your mouth to kiss down your neck. Was it possible to be branded by a dozen kisses? He left a trail of sweltering kisses over every exposed part of your upper body, and all you could do was pant and moan helplessly. To hell with the neighborhood and their lingering eyes; the world around you could collapse, and you’d still be clinging to his body. 

“I told you I didn’t wanna hear those apologies,” Joel muttered against the hollow of your neck. 

“What are you gonna do about it, Joel?” You moaned, his teeth grazing your collarbone. 

“All I want right now is to hear you screamin’ my name, so you better invite me inside before I fuck you right here.”

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered.

“Wrong name, baby.”

With one strong arm braced around your back and a firm hand on your ass, Joel carried you out of the driveway and through the open garage. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the bare patches in his beard. Joel stumbled into the living room and sat you on the edge of the couch. You clung to him, refusing to lay back, too afraid to disconnect from his body. There was something so addicting, so right about being in his arms—almost familiar. 

“Y’look so beautiful in this dress, baby,” Joel breathed. “Turn around.”

You unattached yourself from him, spinning until your thighs pushed against the leather of the couch. Joel’s hands roamed over your calves, dragging your dress up until it piled against your lower back. You gasped as his fingers tore apart your underwear, the scraps falling down your legs and piling at your feet. It was embarrassing how wet you were already, your slick coating your inner thighs. 

“Joel,” you whined as he swiped a finger through your wet folds.

“Use your words,” he hummed, slowly pushing in two fingers.

“I need you, Joel.” He curled his fingers against the spot that left you breathless, coaxing you to speak more. “Need it rough—please.” 

You needed to feel how bad he needed you; you needed to show him you wanted him, even if it meant doing it without saying it aloud.

“Y’want it rough, baby? I can do that. If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” you exhaled. 

Joel pulled his fingers from you, bringing them to your mouth and smearing your arousal over your parted lips. You hummed as you tasted yourself, pushing your ass back into him. You heard the clang of his belt and the soft sound of his jeans hitting the floor before he swiped his cock across your slick entrance.

“Don’t be gentle,” you moaned.

“Anythin’ you want, baby.”

That was all he said before splitting you open, the fullness of his cock inside you robbing you of all the breath in your lungs. Joel kept his hips flush with yours, his fingertips drifting down the fabric of your dress covering your spine. 

“Joel,” you whined. 

You shifted yourself onto the tips of your toes, nudging yourself back until the tip of his cock rubbed against the right spot inside you. You mewled at the sensation, wiggling your hips to find some sort of relief from the pleasure churning inside your stomach.

“Impatient, baby?” Joel teased.

He moved against you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You had been in such a haze last time you hadn’t realized how big he actually was, but now you felt every glorious inch of him inside you. You let out another frustrated whimper, and Joel responded with an onslaught of forceful thrusts. Your body shoved further into the couch, your midsection rubbing against the edge every time Joel snapped his hips against yours. 

Joel’s hand snaked around your neck, drawing you back into his chest, the angle of his cock spearing deeper inside you. Your wails turned to sobs as you listened to Joel grunting harder behind you, his fingers squeezing rhythmically around your throat. 

“That’s it, baby,” Joel crooned. “That’s it. Doin’ so well for me.”

You gasped for air as the desire coiling within your core became agonizing and all-consuming. Your fingers wrapped around his hand holding you up, clawing at his skin as his thrusts became erratic and determined. You were teetering on the edge of euphoria, your body buzzing with pleasure. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” Joel whispered into your ear. 

You fought against your dress to find your clit, the instant connection of your fingers causing you to cry out. Joel’s mouth ravaged your neck, sucking marks into the skin as you drew tantalizing circles over the sensitive bud. It was right there— that explosive pleasure bubbling under the surface. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice strained under his grip. “Don’t—right there. Right there, Joel!”

Joel quickened the pace, your eyes blurring as your orgasm raced through your veins and set your nerves ablaze. Your sex clenched around his cock, forcing him to slow his thrusts as he groaned into your ear. 

“S’fuckin’ good, baby,” he punched out, releasing your neck.

“More,” you heaved. 

“Think y’can take it?” He asked, pinning you down onto the couch cushions.

“Just want you, Joel,” you said. Your words were muffled into the couch as you exhaled, “Want everything with you.” 

You didn’t know if Joel heard you, and you prayed he didn’t. Your brain was lost in some euphoric haze, dizzying you and your ability to control your emotions. Joel knew every part of your body, like the back of his hand. He knew exactly what you needed and what you wanted, and it was so confusing. 

But all your thoughts grew quiet as the lewd sounds of your arousal and his ragged breathing echoed around the house. Joel’s hand pressed into your hair as he pushed you further into the couch. Bent over this way, you were entirely at his mercy, putty in his hands, and helpless. 

“Swear y’were fuckin’ made for me, baby,” Joel grunted. “You’re mine, baby. Mine.”

“Yours,” you cried. “I’m—.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as Joel seized up, choking out your name as he spilled into you. His body slumped over yours, the weight of his chest heavy against your back. The hammering of his heart matched yours as you both recovered in silence, the house growing quiet aside from your labored breathing. 

“Too rough?” Joel muttered into your hair. 

You shifted your face to the side, rewarded by his lips pressing into your cheek. 

“Perfect,” you sighed. “It was perfect.”

“You weren’t lyin’ when you said you weren’t a fan of vanilla, huh?” Joel chuckled, pulling out of you. 

You slumped further into the couch, laughing softly. 

“I was talking about cake, Joel. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Sure you were, baby. Stay right there, okay?”

You heard his footsteps disappear toward your bedroom, the distant sound of water turning on and off floating down the hallway. A second later, Joel was behind you again, the cool touch of a towel making you jerk away in shock. He gently rubbed the cloth over your inner thighs, taking extra caution of your sore entrance. You’d feel him everywhere tomorrow, and you didn’t hate that for some reason—you wanted the reminder of him. 

“C’mere,” Joel urged, helping you stand. 

He pulled you over to the couch, curling you into his arms and bracing you against his chest. Joel intertwined his fingers with yours, his breathing evening out as you shimmed further into his embrace. Maybe it was the sex, maybe it was just being around him, but all your doubts and worries seemed to fade away. It was just this moment; you and him with limbs entangled together. 

“Tell me somethin’ no one knows about you,” Joel whispered. 

“Only if you tell me something in return.”

“Of course, baby.”

You paused, considering all the possibilities of what you could share. You had forgotten pieces of yourself over the years, the layers of heartbreak and trauma suffocating the person you once were. You still weren’t sure if that girl you had once been was still inside you. 

“I hate pancakes,” you said.

Joel laughed, his body shaking behind you as you buried your head into the couch. 

“Pancakes? Really?” He teased. 

“I just don’t like them!” You defended. 

“Y’gonna tell me why?”

“I don’t know,” you grumbled. “They’re just too sweet.”

“So y’don’t like sugar in your coffee, and y’think pancakes are too sweet,” Joel mused. “What do you like?”

“Don’t tease me, Joel.”

His fingers prodded your sides, forcing you to shriek at the contact. You hated to be tickled and hated it even more when he kept you pinned to your chest with nowhere to go. You rolled toward him, squirming against his touch. Joel leaned in to kiss you softly, muffling your protests as you settled into his arms. 

“Your turn,” you sighed. 

“Hmm, well, I like pancakes.”

“Be serious, Joel,” you frowned. 

“Okay, okay. I love watchin’ cartoons.”

You giggled, watching that grin stretch across his face. 

“Been watchin’ them with Sarah since she was a kid,” he chuckled. “I still do sometimes, even if she ain’t home.” 

“That’s cute,” you smiled.

You brought your fingers to his face, scratching at the stubble covering his chin and jaw. Joel’s eyes shut as your touch drifted over the patchy spots, your fingertips drawing circles in the places his beard disconnected. 

“Tell me somethin’ else,” he said.

“I think you’re really handsome.”

It was a quick response—almost too fast—but you couldn’t swallow back the words. You glanced up at him, peeking through your lashes to see his brown eyes soften. 

“Handsome, huh?”

“Well, I can’t call you cute,” you scrunched your nose. “It doesn’t fit you. I like handsome more.”

“I like it,” he smiled. “Call me handsome all y’want.”

You dragged him to your mouth, saying everything you couldn’t form into words. Joel moved with you, his head tilting and mouth molding to yours. He made everything feel so simple; maybe that’s what scared you. It was too easy with him—falling into this idyllic routine. Joel mumbled your name, pulling himself reluctantly from your lips. You chased one more kiss and settled back into his chest. 

“Did you know it’s good luck when it rains on your wedding day?” You thought out loud.

Joel tensed up, his arms flexing around you. 

“Superstition says it means your marriage will last,” you continued. “I’ve always thought it was funny, you know? I used to believe in that before my wedding, but after that, I figured everyone had lied to me.”

“Baby,” Joel whispered. 

“No, it’s okay. There’s a point to this, I promise.”

“Tell me,” he urged softly.

“I think the rain was good luck. Maybe not in the way people think, but I don’t think Bennett and I were meant to get married. My sister hated me for going through with it. We didn’t really talk once Bennett and I got engaged. Everyone warned me about him; they told me he wasn’t who I should be with. I was so stubborn to make things work. He—he was there for me during a really awful time in my life. I thought I owed it to him to stay.

“But then here you are, and it makes me re-think everything. The rain? It’s still good luck, just in a different way. I wasn’t meant to be with him because maybe… maybe I was meant to be with you.”

Joel was painfully quiet, his eyebrows furrowing together as he closed his eyes. Oh, fuck. You had rambled out everything you were scared to say, and now it was biting you in the ass. This was why you were too afraid to acknowledge your feelings: the rejection. Joel didn’t see it the same way; he didn’t think of you in the same way, and you just made a complete idiot of yourself. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you muttered, trying to pry yourself out of his grip. You kept the tears at bay, trying not to let yourself succumb to the heartbreak shattering inside you. 

Joel’s hands wrangled you back to his chest, his eyes leveling with yours. You inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed away the rogue tears falling down your cheeks. 

“There ain’t a doubt in my mind y’were meant for me, baby. I’m thankin’ God every day for bringin’ you into my life,” Joel confessed. “I know this is all new, but I promise to keep provin’ myself because whatever this is between us, it’s real.”

“It’s real,” you echoed. 

“Don’t run away from me,” Joel pleaded. “Gimmie all the good and bad stuff. I swear I can handle it.”

“What if you get tired of me? What if I’m not enough?” You rambled. 

“I could never get tired of you, baby. If anythin’, I keep wantin’ more.”

You snuggled further into his embrace, inhaling his scent as you pressed your nose into his chest. Joel ran a hand through your hair, his fingers catching on a few knots left from earlier. 

“What’d you mean when you said he was there for you durin’ somethin’ awful?” Joel asked after a beat of silence. 

Flashes of the crash came back into your mind, or at least the ones you could recall. You squeezed your eyes shut as your nightmares began to see the light of day. It was a memory you never liked to revisit.

“Easy,” your mom whispered. “Easy, honey. Don’t move too much, okay? Take it slow.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the harsh lights above you burning into your retinas as you tried to adjust to the room fading into the forefront. You were tucked into a hospital bed, IVs and tubes sticking out of both arms. Your head was pounding, and everything hurt. That’s all you could focus on. Everything hurt so fucking bad.

“Bennett?” You croaked, searching the room. 

Your mom, dad, Beth, and Stella were all grouped around the foot of the bed, their eyes glassy with tears. Bennett was nowhere to be found. Beth’s fear-stricken eyes shifted from your mom to your dad before she bolted from the room.

“I’m going to go get the doctor,” your mom announced, turning and leaving the room.

Stella shifted uncomfortably and promptly followed, leaving your dad alone at the foot of your bed.

“How’re you feeling, peanut?” He asked, rounding to the side of your bed.

“Pain,” you cried softly.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

“Baby?” Joel said cautiously. 

“S–sorry,” you mumbled. “I don’t know if I really want to talk about it.”

Joel’s brows scrunched together, his eyes staring at you with concern. You turned away from him, lifting yourself from the couch. Pacing the living room, you stared blankly at your bookshelf beside your entertainment center, still collecting dust after two years. You heard Joel shift against the couch behind you and glanced back to see him staring at you intensely. Anxiety was thrumming in your chest the longer you stood in front of him, too many thoughts reeling inside your mind. You never talked about the accident; you didn’t want to be reminded of what had been the catalyst in your relationship's failure. Because that’s what it was. You owed everything to Bennett for sticking by your side through it all, and in the end, you weren’t enough. Nothing you did was enough to salvage what had been your life with him before it all.

“Hey,” Joel exhaled. “C’mere.”

“I—I need a minute,” you cried.

You bolted from the living room and went down the hall, gasping for air when you reached the edge of your bed. The room was spinning as you dropped your head in your hands, the nausea surging up inside you the longer you stayed stuck in the memory. You needed out of it; you needed out. You needed—.

Joel rushed into the room, falling to his knees in front of you as he said your name over and over to coax you out of the trance. Nothing was working. Your head was throbbing in pain, and you couldn’t work around it. 

“Breathe with me, baby,” Joel whispered. “Breathe.”

You heaved in a lung full of air, only to choke on it and gag back the nausea crawling up your throat. Joel rubbed his hands over your thighs, the sensation of his touch jarring you enough to make you cringe. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he crooned, a distant echo of your dad's words. “It’s okay.”

The shrilling sound of your phone ringing pulled you both from the moment, and you crawled over the bed to grab it. 

Beth

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I can’t—I can’t answer it.”

“Give it to me, I’ll do it,” Joel offered with an outstretched hand. 

You practically tossed it at him while you crumpled into the sheets with your hands clutching your head. 

“Hello?” He answered with a brief pause before he said, “This is Joel.”

Silence.

“Fuck, okay. Gimmie a second,” he replied.

“Baby, she needs to talk to you,” Joel said.

You stifled your cries before taking your phone from his hand, already hearing Beth’s frantic voice on the other end of the receiver. 

“Beth, what is it?” You asked, your body shaking. 

“It’s dad, sis. You’ve got to come home, okay?”

[justaz]

this got longer than i meant it to so im putting it under the cut

merlin and morgana watching arthur and gwen be The Couple in camelot. they are heartbroken, jealous, and tired- no, exhausted. they've arthur and gwen for years and fell madly and hopelessly in love with them (respectively). however, they care for the both of them and if they’re happy together then merlin and morgana will simply bite their tongue. besides, its not like their feelings are reciprocated so there’s no use in stirring up trouble.

but the pain eats away at them until they are shadows of their previous selves. merlin is quiet and demure while morgana’s lighthearted snark is growing harsher and harsher. it comes to a head when morgana makes a scathing remark to merlin about his feelings. before, her comments had been directed at others, arthur more often than not, but never toward merlin. they were in the same boat so why would morgana target him?

but she did and things get a little tense. then merlin finds a spell and shows morgana and the two of them, utterly exhausted and desperate for an end to their agony, agree to take part in the spell together. merlin concocts the potion and they both down it. the next day, merlin and morgana are as happy as can be. it was a startling 180° from the morose and downtrodden duo they had been not even twelve hours before to the happy, on cloud nine, nothing is wrong with the world people that hummed as they danced around the castle

merlin and morgana exclaim to one another how freeing it is to not feel such a heavy burden of unrequited love. they mention how easy it is to breath. how they haven’t been this happy and carefree in years. of course, like everything else, there comes a price

to be rid of feelings like love, the opposite feeling would take it’s place. a lot of people believe the opposite of love to be hate, but it is in fact indifference. it starts off slow where gwen makes inside jokes that morgana cant remember. then it moves to them having trouble remembering arthur and gwen’s names. then their memories begin to rewrite themselves to remove arthur and gwen from their minds. eventually, they roam the halls, arm in arm, without even a glance at either arthur or gwen bc they cant find it in themselves to care about these two random strangers. who would?

arthur and gwen go to gaius who has already noted their odd behaviors and has been looking into it. the rest of the knights join them in gaius’s chambers bc they had also noticed how weird they were acting. lancelot is quiet and brooding until arthur pushes him to confess what he knows.

lancelot tells them how he fell for gwen the first time he had come to camelot. she flushes and arthur seems upset but lancelot continues. he tells them all how despite, or maybe because of, his love for gwen, he let her go to be with arthur bc she was happy with him. he hesitates and gwen encourages him. lancelot mentally apologizes to his two magical friends and spills the beans. he explains how morgana has loved gwen for years and how merlin has loved arthur for years. the three of them had bonded after arthur and gwen were engaged about how much it hurt watching the person you love be happy with someone else.

slowly, he pulls out a vial filled with glittering, dark red liquid - dark like blood. he hands it to gaius and explains how they had come to him a few days ago with that and said how it would cure his pain. it would wash away his love for gwen so he wasn’t crushed under the weight of it. he says he never took it bc he didn’t think it was right but merlin and morgana had already taken it. he wasn’t sure what the side effects were going to be until he saw them that afternoon.

gaius finds what the potion is and explains how it did in fact wash away their feelings of love for arthur and gwen and with the absence of love, indifference took hold. he wasn’t sure if their missing memories could be attributed to the indifference or if the spell took to wiping the memories to prevent the love from regrowing.

arthur and gwen are quiet, guilty and upset that their closest friends were going thru such turmoil and they weren’t aware at all. leon clears his throat and asks how to cure them. gaius grimaces and read the book a bit more before responding that a counter potion would do the trick, it would neutralize the previous potion by bringing back their memories and feelings. arthur is quick to agree but gaius interrupts that once the counter potion has been administered, everything will come back at once. everything.

they question him and he explains that every memory, every word spoken, every touch, and every feeling from the past 7+ years will run through them at the same time. considering they’ve been dealing with unreciprocated love and watching the one they love be with someone else for the past couple of years, it wouldn’t be that farfetched to assume that they would look and sound like dying animals. suffice to say, it wouldn’t be pretty.

in spite of the guilt and fear in arthur, he insists that they have to bring merlin and morgana back. he doesn’t want to put them in pain but he cant just let them wipe themselves away and continue on with his life as if he didn’t just lose his best friend and sister. they spike merlin and morgana’s wine with the potion and, as gaius predicted, merlin and morgana both drop to the floor, screaming and crying in pain, pleading with anyone to make it stop and take the pain away.

gwen hides her tears in elyan’s shoulder, arthur uses his long taught skill of being an Emotionless Prick of a Prince his father taught him to not cry. the tears stay in his eyes and do not fall. a few minutes later, merlin and morgana are both catatonic on the ground, limp and staring at nothing. their breathing is slow, so slow they almost appeared dead.

lancelot and gwaine help merlin up and take him to his chambers while leon and percival do the same for morgana. no one mentions what happened and merlin and morgana stay locked in their rooms for two days before being able to get up out of bed. they aren’t back to their shadow selves from two weeks prior, nor are they the happy go lucky duo from the past few days. instead, they are slow and quiet and barely even there. they’re barely even people anymore. simply going through the motions.

[dumbasshomo]

RIPTIDE WHUMP BC FUCK YOU BARBRA

the first time gillion got hurt, well properly hurt he tried to hide it.

he was the champion of the undersea, hero of the deep. a single bullet should not be something to bring him down, he should not be feeling this pain, by the gods if his mother could see him, the shame would be worse.

despite how hard he worked to conceal the leaking wound, even the champion of the undersea could suffer from blood loss. and that is what happens. the crew walking back to their ship when gillion simply cannot remain upright any longer and what they see is his body collapse on to the sea worn pier.

neither chip nor jay knew triton anatomy, so seeing their best friend lay unmoving on top of a growing puddle of blood all they could do for a moment was stare in horror. how, how could he have hidden this from them, they knew he had ridiculous standards for himself but now the boisterous laughter that always followed them was gone.

his armour was heavy, heavier than either anticipated, leaving them wondering how he could even stand under its physical pressure. they drag him back to the ship, leaving a smear of blood behind them, some childs paint brush gone askew. he remained silent, pale and unmoving, chip continuing to stop and check where his pulse should be, terrified that thrum would simply disappear.

it took nearly an hour, more bandages than they could count but finally gillion’s blood stopped flowing and his heart remained steady. as they waited for him to awaken the duo tried as hard as possible to scrub their hands but his blood remained permanently caked under their nails.

[ghost-bxrd]

Sharing more snippets of this because nobody’s gonna care for this fic anyway but I need to get it out of my system so badly I’ll be useless for anything else if I don’t lol

[bonezjack]

a little bit of dsaf3 angst because im feeling jolly

[thinking1bee]

You Haven't Failed Part 12

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Tags: Spidey!Reader, Venom!Reader, So Much Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut

Everything Taglist: @ara-a-bird @alexawynters @sgm616

“Go, go, go!” Wanda screamed at Tony, urging him to go get help.

He tried to call multiple people, but so far, no one picked up. It was late at night, so it was natural that the Avengers slept with their phones off or silenced, and only a different kind of alarm could wake them up. That one would have to be activated by Fury. Venom snarled as Wanda tried to fight it back with her magic. Red wrapped around its body, but it was broken by a flap of its wings as it still charged towards them. Tony shot it with his repulsors. When Venom still didn’t slow down, he activated a panel in his back. Out of it came a gauntlet full of mini missiles.

“Sorry, kid,” he said sadly as he fired. The projectiles exploded on contact, and the alien screeched as its body warped around the blasts.

“Three minutes,” Tony promised as he looked at Wanda. She nodded and watched as he took off, his form disappearing into the compound in the distance.

She turned her attention back to you, to Venom. It stood up and rolled its shoulders. Smoke wafted from its body, but there wasn’t a scratch on it.

“Come on, Y/n!” she begged. “Fight it!”

Venom only laughed maliciously. “You have no idea how weak they were,” he began. Wanda clenched her jaw, her eyes narrowing furiously. “It was so easy to take them over. Their desperation. Their despair. They were drowning in it, and you were none the wiser!”

That made Wanda falter, her eyes widening at Venom’s words. She remembered what Osborn said to her. The symbiote feeds off the emotions of its host to bend them to its will. Is that what you harbored?

Venom cackled. “Love,” it spat, like the word itself was a disgusting thing to be uttered. “Such a useless human emotion. So weak. So distracting. It was almost too easy. Their love for you and their desire to never lose you again reeked of petty sentiment, but it was easy to use that against them, to let me take them over.”

Wanda thought back to the night you almost beat that prisoner to death, and the conversation that she had with you after. She remembered you telling her how it felt like you just got her back, even though she had been revived for years now. She thought that she understood, but maybe she didn’t comprehend just how deep this went for you. In all the times that she’s read your mind, not once did she see anything alluding to what Venom was saying. So, you either repressed this, or you hid it from her.

“детка…” she whispered sadly to herself.

“Did you know that they blamed themselves for your death?” Venom continued. Somehow, the monster managed to look incredulous, a nonexistent eyebrow quirking with disbelief at what it was about to say. “Their memories are interesting to say the least. There are fragments missing, holes where their memory had been too feeble to recall what happened to them. They harbor such great hate for themselves because of something that they were too weak to prevent. They genuinely thought that they could stop this Thanos.” It paused as it cackled. “Pathetic.”

Wanda couldn’t fight the tears that were gathering in her eyes. When she came back, the team had warned her of the changes in you and she didn’t think too much of it. It wasn’t like she didn’t care because Wanda cared about you and for you greatly. It was that everyone went through changes after the initial loss to Thanos. No one was the same. Even her. In her mind, she was going to accept you no matter what. The thing was that you were your usual self with the same sunny disposition that she fell in love with. When she came back, you had been protective at first, extremely protective, but she understood. If it had been you, Wanda wouldn’t have let you out of her sight and she reassured you as many times as it took to make you believe that she wasn’t going anywhere. Yes, there were changes, and she prepared herself to face them with you, but she didn’t know of your emotional turmoil. Hearing it was breaking her heart but hearing it from the symbiote made her feel as though she wasn’t attentive enough towards you. You hardly spoke about what happened after the snap, and while she did ask, you only told her that you couldn’t remember. Wanda didn’t want to pry, and she respected your answer all the same, but to know this was how you felt…hot tears trailed down her cheeks.

She needed to get you free from this thing.

Wanda wiped her eyes and took a steadying breath. She must control her emotions. She watched as the magic in her palms fluctuated wildly and she willed the energy inside of her to calm. There was a fine line, and crossing it meant accidently killing you. When Venom saw her ready herself, it cackled some more.

“Removing them from me at this point will kill them.”

Wanda shrugged. She knew what Osborn said. “They’re dead either way. If they stay there, they’re dead. If I remove them, they’re dead. At least with them removed, you won’t have a body to puppeteer.”

At that, Venom bristled, the smile slowly leaving its face. They said nothing more to each other, and Wanda watched Venom closely for any signs of movement. When she saw its wing twitch, she extended her arms, and with a yell of exertion, shot a thick column of red magic its way. It was wide, with the attack taking up the entire street. It wouldn’t be able to dodge it in time, so Venom used its wings as a protective shield. They folded in front of its body and flattened just as Wanda’s attack hit. Her red magic cut through, and Venom screeched in pain as her energy seared its black flesh. When the dust settled, she saw that Venom was still standing with half of its body missing, but what should have been empty space and scorched tissue were your limbs. Wanda could see your arm and leg right as Venom began to cover it in its own flesh, the damage healing as it regenerated. You weren’t gone yet and that was great news.

A loud crack of thunder made her jump, and she watched as Venom was struck by a thick bolt of lightning. Thor landed right beside her with a grunt. Tiny crackles of electricity surrounded his body as his eyes glowed a deep blue. He stood up with his Stormbreaker in his hands, but other than that, he donned nothing else besides a pair of boxers that said “Thunder” on one ass cheek and “Daddy” on the other. Wanda stared at him, her arms lowering.

“There was no time for clothes, Lady Wanda,” he said valiantly. “We need to get Y/n back.”

Wanda nodded and watched as Tony landed beside her.

“Was there only Thor?” Wanda asked him and Tony shook his head.

Right on cue, everyone heard a roar, and seconds later, a flash of green passed her peripheral vision before it landed on top of Venom. Bruce. He was quick as he snatched the alien by its ankle and smashed it repeatedly into the ground. Venom snarled, its arms flailing as it was smashed into the street hard enough to leave craters behind.

“Everyone is gone or out,” Tony told her. It was okay. They could do this together.

Venom began to stretch, its body thinning as it wrapped itself around Bruce’s arm. Bruce roared, but Venom was faster. It reached out with the top half of its body and dug its arms into the street to anchor itself. Then, it twisted, and Wanda watched as Bruce was momentarily handled like a rag doll. Venom was able to throw him several feet away, and everyone had to dodge his body before they were crushed. Venom spread its wings and screeched before it took to the skies. Tony, Wanda, and Thor followed it as they continued to fight. Tony kept shooting it with the small armory that his Iron-Man suit was modified with. Thor shot more arcs of lightning. Wanda used her magic, but she realized relatively quickly that their efforts weren’t getting them anywhere. Venom was absorbing their attacks and healing any damage made. Tony realized it too when he joined their side.

“Wanda, I don’t have any more of those devices or else we could use the sound to incapacitate this damn thing.”

Wanda took a deep breath and looked at him. “Get Venom to the ground. I’ll take care of the  rest.”

Tony nodded and left her side. He shot more blasts while Thor struck Venom with more lightning, but ultimately, it was Bruce that was able to get to the symbiote. He jumped into the air and snatched Venom right out of the sky. His hands crushed its wings, and Venom shrieked in pain as it thrashed in his grip. Brice twirled in the air to gain momentum before he threw Venom as hard as he could towards the ground. It shocked Wanda to hear a boom in the air, the sound barrier breaking before the ground cratered and quaked from the force of impact. Venom was slower to recover from this attack. Wanda watched as it tried to crawl from out of the crater only to collapse a second later. She took that as her chance, her fingers fluttering as red magic wrapped around the body it stole. She forced Venom upright and to its knees, and she restrained its arms to the street just slightly behind it, a thick column of red around the appendages. It tried to struggle but Wanda wasn’t going to let it go again. She regarded it with extreme fury in her eyes, the red shining brighter in them than anyone had ever seen before. She approached, her hand clenched into a fist, and as she got closer, Venom laughed.

“You won’t kill me, not with Y/n’s life on the line. Be reasonable,” it challenged. It continued to laugh, but that laughter died as Wanda conjured a very large, translucent bell. It was outlined in red from her magic, and it hovered just right beside her open hand as it rippled with power.

All Wanda needed to know was the volume and frequency of the noise she would need to create, and she now knew it because of Tony. Venom now looked at her nervously, its gaze shifting between her and the bell. She didn’t say anything at first. Her face was hardened into stone as she stared with steely eyes.

“Killing you is a mercy you cannot afford. You will realize, within the next few minutes, that what happens next, is me being reasonable,” she murmured in an unyielding voice.

Before Venom could retort, Wanda waved her hand, and the bell began to ring. The reaction was immediate. Venom screeched, and like last time, its body contorted in an effort to get away. Wanda tightened the restraints around its body as she continued to ring the bell. It swung from side to side heavily, just like a real one. The sound it emitted was loud enough to hurt her own ears, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t hear your voice, and she couldn’t see your pain, therefore, there was no reason to hold back.

“Come on, Y/n!” she yelled. She watched emotionlessly as Venom writhed, but despite the pain it felt, it was still able to speak.

“It’s too late!” it managed to spit out. “You’ve already lost them!”

Wanda faltered for a heartbeat, its words making her waver, but in that split moment, she understood. She was going about this the wrong way. So, as she kept ringing the bell, she changed tactics.

“You’re going to lose me, Y/n!” she screamed, the bell ringing louder and louder. “If you don’t fight, you’re going to lose me! You need to wake up!”

Tony, Thor, and Bruce all watched, their faces solemn and sad when they didn’t see any changes.

“Y/n, детка! I know you can hear me! If you don’t do anything, baby, you’re going to lose me! You’re going to lose us!”

Venom was already screeching in agony, but Wanda watched as its mouth began to open impossibly wider. It was like something unhinged its jaw, and half of its head began to unravel, the black tissue falling away to reveal a part of your face. Wanda watched with bated breath as you weakly opened your eye, and you looked around before your blurry gaze fell on her.

“Baby.” This was much quieter, gentler. “Please,” she begged, her bright red eyes filling with tears that spilled over. “Fight it.”

Instantly, your face crumbled, and a tired sob left your lips. “I can’t. I can’t.”

If Wanda thought you pale before, you looked ghostly now. “Let me help you, детка.” She wrapped more magic around Venom to keep it right where it was. “Let me in.”

More cries left you as you felt Wanda cup your cheek with a strong hand, her forehead leaning against yours as you felt her in your mind. You let her in. You let her see the parts of you that you never wanted her to see.

Part 13

[magnoliasandarson]

Voicemail

Jason isn't really sure why he does it. Dickhead had never really been his biggest fan, and maybe they had kinda been getting along recently, but that didn't erase all the bad. But Bruce had taken Robin away from Dick, and now he had taken it away from him, so he calls.

Unsurprisingly, it goes to voicemail. Jason swipes a hand over his sweaty forehead, Ethiopia is a lot warmer than Gotham. The phone beeps, and he pauses for a second before saying, "Hey, Dickface,"

For some reason, he tears up, but he takes a shuddering breath and says, "I just wanted to let you know that B kicked me out, so you can go back to the Manor or whatever. No more replacement," he swallows down the old rage and sadness that claws its way up his throat, "Sorry. It's just- whatever. I found a lead on my birth mom. I'm gonna find her. She's a good person, you'd probably like her,"

He kicks some dirt, trying to find a way to say what he needed to say, "Anyway, I called because," there had to be dust in his eyes, "because I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I wasn't a good Robin, I should've never worn the stupid suit. You were good. You- uh- you made me wanna be good. Whatever- I'm not gonna be hanging around anymore bothering you, but I wanted to tell you- I wanted to say that you were a good brother- the best. I wish I was better. It doesn't matter," he scrubs the tears off his face, "see you around, Dickhead."

--follow up is posted "One Missed Message"---

[mermaidgirl30]

My Heart I Surrender

This was a writing challenge by @iamasaddie and it was soooo much fun to partake in! I got a really angsty moodboard, so I apologize for the tears you might spill 😭 I LOVED doing this and hope to do more very soon! I just jotted all this out this afternoon, so I hope you enjoy 🥰 This is also in Joel’s POV!

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Word count: 2.5k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Angst, feelings, angsty Joel, smut, confessing feelings, more angst

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The rustic, spinning clock ticks over the soft patters of rain against the fogged up living room window. It’s like a competition, the vibrating sounds colliding together in a deafening noise that reverberates around your mind. Tick, tick, patter, patter. It’s too much, too loud for you to handle.

You hold your head in between your hands and cover your ears, trying to drown out the suffocating noise in your mind. You close your eyes tightly and try to forget. Forget the sounds of her walking out of the room, forget the way she slammed the door and ran out. But you can’t forget. It’s too fresh, too paralyzing.

Tick, tick. You gnash your teeth together and crush your head between your knees, desperate to escape the haunted ticks that keep coming. Louder, louder. It’s enough to drive a mad man crazy.

Tick, tick. That’s it. The final straw to make you lose control again. You push yourself out of the leather recliner and throw the empty whiskey glass at the clock. It immediately crashes to the floor, glass and broken pieces go everywhere against the dark wooden floors. The ticking abruptly stops and so does your pounding headache.

You run a rough hand through your messy curls, slicking it back into place. You sigh haggardly and slowly turn in the direction of the worn out couch, freezing at the mere sight of it. Your jaw clenches up as soon as you see it. Right in the center of the rose colored couch is the imprint of her. You run your calloused fingers slowly over the velvety material, feeling exactly where she laid. It’s almost like she’s still here. Almost. It’s still damp, still dripping with her arousal. You can smell her. The aroma of vanilla and cinnamon lingering in the air, just like the memory of her.

You pull your hand back and bite your tongue as you feel blood run straight down your throat. It’s the taste of loss, the taste of resentment. You did this to yourself. You. You throw yourself over the cushiony material, splaying your hands all over the damp material. Come back, come back. But she’s gone. She’s gone.

You remember her sitting in this spot not even an hour ago, with your head in between her creamy thighs. The way her breathy moans sounded as you tasted her. Your wet tongue sliding up her folds as you circled her clit nice and slow, sucking her into your mouth as she moaned your name and tangled her fingers through your mess of wild hair. She tasted so good. Just like a fresh sip of lemonade on a warm summer day that quenched your thirst. And God, the taste of her slick as she came in your mouth again and again. That warm salty and sweet taste mixing together that formed like hot cider on your taste buds. It was addicting. You couldn’t get enough, could never get enough.

You dig your fingers into the soaked material, trying to claw your way back to her. Come back, come back. You rest the edge of your face right where she sat, feeling your rugged scruff blend in with the smell of her. Too much, this is too much.

You remember how it felt being inside her as you thrusted yourself into her again and again, can still hear her ragged moans against your ear as she wrapped her legs around you and dug her nails into your back, slowly scraping red lines against your skin. She clung to you, ripping into your plaid shirt as she squeezed you tight, not ready to let go. And you fucked her like it was the last night you’d ever have with her. You made it passionate, slow, rough, exotic. And you made her cum three different times, but it wasn’t enough. It still wasn’t enough.

But it was the last night. Just like she told you when you saw her at Tipsy Bison earlier. One more time, she said. This is the last time. It was a love letter that ended with you. No more, this was the last straw. She was saying goodbye. It was a goodbye. But goddamn it, you didn’t want it to be. You never wanted it to be. This can’t be over. It won’t be over. Not if you can help it.

You pick yourself off the floor, crawl your way to the door as you grab a single cigarette that sits in the pocket of your denim jeans. You stopped smoking, she killed your bad habit as she always grabbed them out of your hand and threw them in the trash. You don’t need them. They’re bad for you, she’d say. She was always good about that, killing your bad habits. But she wasn’t here to tell you no. And God, you needed something to numb the pain. Anything.

As you stand up and walk to the white wooden door, you caress your fingers on the brass knob and close your eyes, remembering exactly how she left. You could still feel her hot skin, feel the echoes of loss and torture swirl around the room as you remember the way she left. Her eyes were filled with tears. Those sparkling, gorgeous eyes that took your breath away every time you set your sights on her. But this time she was broken, a torn fragment of your imagination now. She was so sad, so distraught in the worst way. And the way she looked at you before she walked out… God, it nearly kills you to think about.

Please, don’t go, you called after her. Desperate to keep her here with you, to stay one more night. If it meant you got to hold her one more time. One final time.

I can’t stay. Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be.

I….. You almost told her you loved her, almost broke down when you saw her opening the door. But almost wasn’t enough, it was never enough.

I have to go, she said. And then she walked out that door, leaving you hollow and broken inside, just like your now empty, vacant house.

You ran after her, calling her name, yelling her name. Please, please. Don’t go, you pleaded. Your voice a scratchy, hurling mess.

She turned so slowly, bloodshot with red eyes and tears spilling down her crimson cheeks. She shook her head no, digging her hands inside her violet jacket. She was right on the verge of collapsing, so close to barreling over in agony. And she said the words, those frozen, utterly dreadful words. I can’t… And then she fled, running back to her house, away from you. For good.

You stood there watching her, fisting your unruly curls with your fists and trying not to break down. But you had already broken down the moment she walked through your door, the moment she walked out into the rain and left you standing there, broken and beaten. A bottled up case of whiskey blues.

You punch the door, your knuckles hitting like jagged scars across the wood. Your knuckles turn red and start bleeding, just like your black heart. You step out on the vacant porch, the wood squeaking beneath you as the pounding rain hits against the edge of the wooden porch. You light up the cigarette, sticking it in your mouth and inhaling a puff of nicotine, desperate for some kind of relief. Any relief. It shoots through your lungs, numbing the pain just a tad as it takes the edge off. You blow out the smoke as it curls around the drizzle, mixing in with the whispers of the howling wind. She’s gone.

You inhale the smoke like it’s oxygen to your lungs, fighting every feeling in you to numb that empty space in your heart. The space where she’s missing. Your petal made from roses. Your sweet, intoxicating rosebud. But she’s not yours anymore. She’s not yours.

You finish the cigarette and stomp it out with your leather, worn boot, pushing it to the side so you don’t have to be reminded of the bad habits you said you’d stop. You did stop, but she’s gone so why does it matter anymore?

As you look out at the foggy, rainy night, you can almost see her. See the ghost of what once was an hour ago. Can see the way her long hair clung to her shoulders as the rain dripped off onto her back. Can see the look on her eyes before she ran off. She was torn, eaten up with hurt as she walked away. Her figure was only a mere memory now.

God, you couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t stand the mere thought of losing her. Not after you held her in your arms night after night. Not after you entwined yourself in her and lost yourself in her body over and over again. Not after her lips had marked yours, singeing her scent all over you as the cinnamon flavor swirled through your mouth. She was what brought you peace. Her. But you fucked it up. Fucked it up with every pointless fight you started because you were so fucking angry with the world, and you didn’t know how to control yourself. But she helped to calm you, helped to part the seas of your chaotic crashing hurricane. She was like a gentle spring day, a bed full of soft roses where you could lay your head when it got too much. But now it was just cloudy thunderstorm days without her. It was pure torture, no more spring days to mask your pain.

A wave of nausea pulls at your insides as you stumble forward, anxiety coursing through you like a hard metal bullet. You feel like you can’t breathe, your chest so tight that it hollows in on itself and leaves you bleeding inside. It’s like a sharp knife slicing you in two, tearing open your insides as you bleed to death. You hold your chest as you step into the rain, trying to calm your racing thoughts as you claw at the wooden railing on the edge of the porch.

The rain comes down hard on you, covering you in a sea of regret and longing. It dawns on you now that you can’t lose her. You can’t say goodbye. You won’t say goodbye. So without thinking, you run as fast as you can, dodging mud puddles and holes in the ground as you run like lightning. You have to stop her, you have to apologize. You have to get her back. You can’t lose her too. No, you just can’t.

You’re wheezing, coughing your lungs out as you run faster and faster, getting closer to her house. God, you wish you wouldn’t have smoked that cigarette, but it was too late. And now all you care about is finding her before it’s too late.

You make it to her front porch and pound on the rusty door, desperately clawing your way back into her life. You have to try, you have to try. After two more sharp pounds to the door, she opens it swiftly as shock registers on her face.

“Joel, what are you…”

You cut her off, too desperate to wait any longer. You come back crawling to her like a starving dog that’s lost its owner, pleading for her to take you back. You say her name anguished, your eyes tearing up and filling with puddles as you feel a teardrop trickle down your cheek like the soft droplets of rain that encase your cold body.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. For always starting fights, for blowing up in your face from things that weren’t your fault. For breaking your heart over and over. I just… I’m so sorry. Forgive me. Forgive me, please. Because if you don’t then I can never forgive myself for ruining what we have because it’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. I need you, baby. I need you,” you desperately plead as more tears fall down your face, blurring your vision from the beauty that stands in front of you.

“Hey, stop. It’s okay. I’m right here. See?” She asks as she grazes her warm hand over your scruff, catching a falling tear with the tip of her thumb as her eyes glaze over yours, regret filling her face. “Joel, why did you come?” she asks as she looks into your eyes eagerly, looking for an answer in your blurring eyes.

“To apologize. To tell you I can’t live without you. I…I…” you struggle with the words, getting caught in your throat as you choke them out. But you say it, you have to say it. “I love you…” you whisper as your voice fills the void, your heart bleeding out on the dirt that you stand on, screaming her name as you try to claw your way from the hollow ground.

“You love me…?” She asks with softness flowing off her voice.

“Yes. So much. Please, baby. I love you so goddamn much it hurts.”

Her hand brushes your jawline, narrowly tracing your beard as her eyes start to water. You slowly graze your fingers against her cheek as you catch a falling teardrop and wipe it away shakily.

“I…I love you too. I always have. I always will,” she chokes out.

You close your arms around her and bring her into your chest, crushing her against the wet plaid material as more tears spill down your face, landing in her damp hair as you run your fingers through it, feeling that velvety touch that you missed so goddamn much. “I’m not letting you go again, baby. Never ever,” you breathe out, clinging to her like your life depends on it.

“I’m sorry for walking out. I didn’t want to, I really didn’t. I just…I…”

You tilt her head up and crush your lips to hers, feeling that soft, velvety skin that you longed to taste again. She folds into you, wrapping her hands around your shirt and pulling at the buttons, desperate to get near you again. You slide your tongue in her mouth and encase her flavor all over your tongue, basking in her warmth as you melt into her. She pulls you into the house and slams the door closed, still connected by her touch.

She pulls apart from you and stares up at you with longing eyes. Loving eyes. “Don’t go back tonight, Joel. Stay with me,” she says in a desperate, needy tone.

You draw a line with your thumb down her jawline, memorizing every perfect feature on her face. “I’ll stay. For however long you want me to,” you promise, your words filling up your chest with warmth as another tear slips down your face.

“Forever?” she asks with hope filling her eyes.

“Forever.”

You spend the rest of the night just holding her, both of you in wet tears as you lay all your emotions on the table. It’s exactly what you should’ve done all along. This is what you needed. You needed to feel your feelings, not bottle them up. But this felt good, it felt…natural. And so you stay like that the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other and losing yourself in one another. But this is where you belong, where you need to be. You’re home. With her, with your love. Your glowing, beautiful rose petal. Your forever and always.

Tags: @iamasaddie

[murciafire]

Not My Hero

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn! reader

Summary: You were always so self-sacrificial, and Jason finally had enough of it

Warnings: sexual assault; abuse (if you squint)

Words: ~2.2k

Notes: well, if this ain’t me with my own insecurities. Hopefully, someone out there gets it. But oh man, the angst in this was crazy, made me take a few minutes to pause and just suffer in the most heart wrenching words I just wrote. I’m not entirely happy with the outcome but live, laugh, love.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:

“Why didn’t you let me save you?”

Jason’s strained voice cut through the deafening silence that was threatening to suffocate you. His face was stricken with pain as his eyes, wild and bright, searched yours desperately. His hair, you noticed as you urgently looked elsewhere, was a mess as he had clawed through it trying to keep his temper under control. You wanted to reach out, run your fingers though his hair and tell him that everything was going to be okay, but it wasn’t going to be. Because you fucked up—again. Because it always came down to you, didn’t it?

“Jason, it would’ve put you at risk,” you rationalized, looking at the floor. You had gone out with your friends to the club, unbeknownst to you that it was the same club that Jason had business with—well, more like forcefully extracting information from a criminal as the club was a front for illegal affairs.

Jason couldn’t help but raise his voice at your response, he was just as angry with himself as he was with you. “Put me at risk? You were the one who was in danger! Not me!” he replied aggressively, pacing back and forth in the living room.

Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, perhaps with shame too, at the fact that he was right. You had been sexually assaulted by a man at the club, and not wanting to distract him from his mission you had decided to endure it because if you were being honest with yourself, you could. Whatever happened, you would survive it—and you had become really good at surviving. You didn’t know how to ask for help, didn’t know what it was like to not carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, didn’t know how to accept an outstretched hand.

“You would’ve been in danger,” you continued to push. “If you had saved me, it would’ve taken you off course of your mission. It would have jeopardized you—compromised you.”

Jason whirled to look at you, his eyes cutting to you sharply. “Mission? Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Jason asked in total disbelief and annoyance. He felt the ground sway beneath him as he was still reeling from what you said.

“Do you really think I care about a mission at that time when the woman I love was being threatened right in front of me?” He continued angrily. “If it was you or taking down a mafia boss, I would’ve chosen you every single day of my life.”

“But you didn’t,” you said, voice so small it almost came out as a whisper. “And it’s okay.”

Jason looked at you, expressions flitting across his face as he felt a surge of emotions overwhelm him. He was so angry at you, but mostly with himself. It was not okay; how could it be? He had failed you and you were saying it was okay? Jason felt his chest tightening around his heart that was becoming heavy.

“We both made a choice tonight,” you said quietly. “And we’re both still alive so let’s just go to bed.”

Jason opened his mouth to argue some more, but as he looked at you, he clamped his mouth shut. He exhaled through his nose, trying to grasp onto reality, anything to center himself and his eyes landed on yours. You looked exhausted, tired from the events of this evening and tired of the emotional turmoil you were going through. Jason knew you were looking out for him and that you weren’t looking out for yourself. He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Fine,” he gave in reluctantly, crossing his arms.

You stood up, the air around the both of you still thick with tension as you walked to where he stood to give him a hug, but his eyes hardened with every step you took.

“Let me look at those,” Jason commanded. Your eyes travelled down to where Jason kept his eyes trained, seeing the bruises that the man had given you begin to bloom more apparently through your sheer shirt.

“They’re just small bruises,” you brushed off, which made Jason flinch.

“Let me see your bruises, y/n,” he ordered.

Knowing that he wouldn’t stop until he saw them, you crossed the gap between you two and he gently—with the utmost tenderness, pulled up your shirt, his fingers grazing the bruises on your hips lightly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he pressed, irritation dripping into his voice. “You were hurt, and your first thought was to protect me? Instead of taking care of the wounds on your body?”

“I didn’t think there was much to say,” you mumbled out.

His eyes filled with cold rage. “Are you listening to yourself right now? Why the hell did you let him hurt you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“My friend and I figured it out,” you argued, trying to keep your voice steady but failing.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t need me,” Jason spat, his voice filled with hurt and malice. “You got hurt, your body was injured, and you chose to hide it from me? You really think I would have been fine with it? You know this is exactly why I get frustrated with you? This right here?”

He gestured to you, and you flinched, your voice breaking. “Of course, I needed you.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” he asked angrily. She always kept things from him that he needed to know, and he was getting sick of it.

“It was already a tough night for both of us,” you offered weakly. “I didn’t want you to be more worried than you already were.”

Jason took a step back as if he had just gotten slapped. You really thought your selflessness was a virtue, and the more that Jason thought about it, the less impressed he was becoming with your behaviour. You were hurt, assaulted, and bruised and your first thought wasn’t about yourself. It wasn’t even seeking comfort or help. It was to protect him—and if Jason was going to be honest with himself, it was getting old.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jason snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was annoyed at your apology, but he was even more annoyed at the wall you had built up—that you had always pushed him away.

An unsettling silence fell between the both of you and you had felt that the way things had turned out was your fault—it always was. “I’m sorry,” you said again. “I’ll just go.”

You began to walk away from him, but he grabbed your arm. “You’re not going anywhere. I need to know why you’re doing this.”

“Doing what?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

“Why you’re always thinking about me,” Jason said exasperatedly, pain tinging his voice.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked, utterly confused.

Jason stood still, completely silent. Were you really this blind to reality? You were hurt and you still made a point to think about him and not yourself.

“Do you realize just how much it hurts me when you do that?” Jason asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “When you hurt yourself for my sake?”

Jason continued to glare at you, even as the realization began to set in. He couldn’t believe that you were now just starting to understand what he had been trying to tell you for so long.

“You think your selflessness is helping me?” he said bitterly, his voice rising with every word. “Don’t you think it hurts me seeing you hurt? Not only physically but emotionally?”

“I-I d-didn’t know,” you stumbled over your words, feeling so lost at the realization.

“Are you kidding me? Do you understand just how much it hurts me seeing you put your needs aside? Seeing you get hurt?” Jason asked, his eyes starting to well with tears. “What’s so wrong with me that you have to do that?”

His voice cracked as he talked, his eyes desperately searching your face. “What am I doing to make you behave like this?”

“Nothing!” you exclaimed around the lump that burned your throat. How could you tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that it was entirely yours? That you didn’t know how to open up, or how to share the weight of your own trauma. How you were terrified of being a burden to another person, and so you kept it all to yourself. “Nothing is wrong with you, Jay!”

“By always putting my needs before yours, it’s only hurting me more,” Jason said, his head hanging low, defeated.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Jason,” you said, voice breaking. That was the last thing you ever wanted—you had bottled everything in so you wouldn’t, so why does this hurt so much more?

“I know you didn’t,” he said quietly. “But I’m so tired of seeing you hurt.”

There was a lot that you had decided for yourself that night: you had decided to not tell Jason, you had decided what his safety was. Jason was hurt, angry, and confused. He wanted to tell you how much he hated you, but even more so he wanted to tell you that he loved you too.

“I know that you did your best tonight—that you tried to protect me,” Jason said, his voice cracking. “But you’re not my hero. So, stop trying so damn hard to help me.”

You stepped back from him, feeling so overwhelmed, drowning in your own self-deprecation. “What if I don’t become the person you need?” you cried, your tears burning your face.

“What if I need you as you are?” he fought back. “Just because you may not be what I expected right now, doesn’t mean that you still haven’t exceeded my every expectation.”

“It’s not fair that you can be so nice to me even when you’re angry,” you sobbed, voice cracking.

Jason pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “Shhh, shhh. It’s okay. Just because you’re not perfect—no, just because you think you’re not—it doesn’t mean that I can’t be patient with you. That I can’t love you. And that I can’t stay by your side—because I can. Yes, you’ve made me angry. You’ve hurt me. You’ve shut me out. Yet I’m still here. I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you. You are so perfect to me right now, I can’t even put it into words. You’re hurt right now, and I can see it. And it’s killing me to see you like this. Y/n, I don’t need you to be perfect. You can be messy. You can be angry. You can hurt me. Because I’ll always love you.”

You sobbed against his chest, your body wracking with so much guilt, and hurt, and brokenness, because you were such a fuckup. How could he love you?

“You don’t deserve that, Jason,” you cried. “I shouldn’t be hurting you. I shouldn’t even be with you!”

Jason pulled back, his eyes ablaze as he looked at your face desperately. “Why? Why shouldn’t you be with me? Y/n, why do you keep beating yourself over this? Why do you keep pushing me away? Why can’t you accept that I love you? Why can’t you accept that you can be loved? Why can’t you just let yourself be happy?”

You looked away from him, hiding your face in your hands. “I don’t know,” you mumbled.

“You don’t know?” he sighed. He placed his hands on your gently, pulling them away from your face. “Look at me. Look at me.”

You looked up, your eyes glistening with tears as Jason tried to look at your face.

“We’re not doing this,” Jason said, his voice stern. “You’re not leaving me because you think you’re not worth it. You’re not leaving me because you don’t think you can be loved.”

You looked at him so vulnerably—nervous, fear, and insecurity written across your face.

“Y/n,” Jason said gently. “Listen to me. Just listen. You are worth it. You are perfect. You are everything that I could ever want. Do you understand? I don’t care that you’re not perfect. That you mess up. I don’t care that you push me away because I love you. You’re not leaving me, got it?”

You shook your head, wracking over sobs. Jason pulled you into his arms once more, caressing your head.

“Say it, y/n. Say that you’re not leaving me, and that you understand that I need you right now.”

You tried to steady your breath enough to say the next words: “I’m not leaving you. I understand that you need me right now.”

You broke off, crying again and Jason gently caressed your face. “Shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s just you and me now. We’ll always figure it out.”

[sleepershell]

truth or dare

synopsis y/n convinces the Skittles to play truth or dare. It's all fun and games until Reggie doesn't like your answers. He storms out and, when you go to confront him, he's forced to admit how he feels.

Word count 1309

note loosely based on a prompt I saw @sufferingstarlight write from.

warnings a little sad, angst, mention of death eaters/the dark mark, some swearing

pairing Regulus Black x reader (no pronouns I think? Although I was writing it thinking f! Reader)

I couldn’t believe I’d convinced all these pureblood wizards to play a muggle game. But there they were, all my friends, sitting around me and playing a game of truth or dare. Evan charmed a Hufflepuff girl into giving us some weed for free, and we’d smoked it outside before running giggling back to the Slytherin common room. The seventh years all left at the first sight of us. They probably knew we were in the mood to start some trouble. 

It was never hard to sneak Dora in anymore, although that probably had something to do with Regulus’ clout among our housemates for being a Black. Or maybe our housemates’ fear of him being a Death Eater. Either way, it worked out well for us. Dora was leaning against Reg, her long legs splayed in front of her. I was in a similar position, my top half leaning on Cas so she could play with my hair. It was the most euphoric feeling in the world to have her hands in my hair, especially when I was high. Evan was between Cas and Reg, while Barty sat between Dora’s and my feet. It was a good position, since I could give him a good kick whenever he said something stupid. With all that brain of his, one would expect him to say less dumb shit. 

I was just recovering from a fit of laughter at Evan’s last confession when Cas asked “y/n, truth or dare?”

“Hm,” I pretended to think. Normally I would love a good dare but, knowing Cas, she’d try to give me something she knew I’d struggle with. No one quite knew how to push my buttons like my best friend. “Truth this time.” I cracked my knuckles for effect. 

“Alrighttt.” I could feel the vibrations in her chest as she spoke. “If you could kiss any of the boys at school, who would it be?” 

My stomach dropped. Of course, she still had found a way to torture me. Oh, that girl was going to get jinxed later. She’d never be able to sleep safely in our room again. There was no way I could tell the truth. It would be painfully embarrassing to admit who I really, really wanted to kiss in this group. I wouldn’t live it down. Barty was wagging his eyebrows at me, and Evan looked equally interested in my answer. I was always so careful to keep who I liked close to my chest, though I suspected everyone already knew. I had to think of something before the length of time got way too suspicious. I let a glance fly over at Reg. Like always, he just stared at me, eyes blank, a slight furrow in his brow. I should say Sirius. Then maybe he’d actually react to me for once. Then maybe I’d know how he felt. Saying Potter might hurt him even more… But I couldn’t do something like that to him. 

“Uh, Remus, I guess.” I shrugged. 

Barty wrinkled his nose at that. “That boring friend of Sirius’?”

“He’s not boring,” I protested, “he’s… nice.” 

A scoff from Regulus. 

 I sat up straight, ready for a fight. “Is there something you want to say?”

“Nope.” Cocky asshole.

“Fine.” I crossed my arms. “Reggie: truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” His dark eyes were still blank but I could see tension in his lips. 

“Who in school would you kiss?”

He shook his head with a small laugh. “This muggle game is ridiculous.” 

All at once he was standing and stalking out of the common room with the haughty grace typical of all the Blacks. Pandora looked shocked when he disappeared from beside her and nearly fell over. Other than she and I, everyone gave a collective shrug. It wasn’t out of character for Reg to leave so abruptly, to get rumpled over nothing. But this time I hopped up from my spot as well. He couldn’t just leave like that. 

“Where are you going?” Evan asked. 

“I’m going to find that fucker.” I called back over my shoulder.

“Oh boy.” I could hear them all break out into laughter as I slammed the door behind me.

Regulus wasn’t hard to find. When I didn’t see him in the dungeons I knew where else to look. It was late in an October evening, and I had to wrap my arms around myself as I followed the edge of the Black Lake. There was no moon above, the only reflections cast on the water from the monolith of a castle behind me. So many days we’d spent out on the bank of the lake, on the side closest to the Forbidden Forest. There was nowhere else he’d go.

And there was Reg, pacing back and forth, his hands held out in front of him grasping the cold air. Strong hands. Piano hands. Writing hands. Hands I’d almost reached out for so, so many times. He appeared suspended in an argument with nothing.

I held my tongue until I was near, but had to speak when my presence wasn’t acknowledged. That close, I could finallyI see emotion on his face. Twisted up and white as a sheet. 

“Reg, tell me what’s going on.” My voice was soft, barely more than a rasp. 

“Nothing.” Still not a glance at me, though he’d stopped pacing. His chest was heaving as if he’d been yelling. “Go back inside, y/n.” 

He loved to give orders. As if anyone had any reason to obey him. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” The words flew out of me with a bite, and he looked up as if he’d been slapped. Maybe my tone was too close to his dreadful mother’s for comfort. But I couldn’t worry about that. We’d been playing pretend for too long. “Do you have a problem with Remus or do you have a problem with me?”

He scoffed again, his eyes up to the moonless sky. “You have no idea what I’ve got going on.” He always had to play superior. Always had to play prince. 

“Salazar, Regulus, I’m not a bloody idiot! Do you think that little of me?” 

He glared down at me, his eyes glistening. I took a step closer. The gap between us was so small I could feel his breath. 

“Either you’re jealous and you want me or you don’t and you’re the blood purity asshole Black family heir you want everyone to think you are. Just say which.” 

“Stop.” He shook his head at me.

“I’m already in. You can’t scare me away.” 

“Please stop.” Head still shaking. 

“I am in love with you, Regulus. I won’t take it back because it’s true and you can’t ignore it anymore.”  I could see the water welling in his lower lids. It was in mine, too. 

“We can’t,” he breathed. 

My hand, out of reflex more than anything else, lifted to his chin. I brushed my thumb along his bottom lip. He didn’t shy away from my touch like he had so many times before. 

“Please walk away.” There was so much desperation in those eyes. “Please.” 

“Why?”

He grasped his sleeve and wrenched it up. I didn’t have to look; I already knew. 

“If I have to take the mark myself, I will. Anything. Anything.”

“Fuck,” he sobbed, the tears finally falling. He let himself fall forward with them, our foreheads bumping against one another. 

“You love me.” I didn’t ask, but it was a question. A desperate question I’d asked myself about him a million times before. Does Regulus Black love me like I love him?

A nod that shook my own head with it. His red-rimmed eyes bore into me. “I love you.”

I moved my hands to cup his face on either side. “You never told me your answer.” 

And then I felt the softness of his lips on mine. 

xx

[goldenandhappy]

Something about how the only blemish on Luffy's strawhat - on Shanks's strawhat - was made by Buggy.

[3dprintcess]

Spaceship Greg [AO3]

M/M, Explicit, 77k words, Taskmaster UK sci-fi AU, fandom-blind friendly.

A sci-fi space fic where Greg is a spaceship, and Alex is an escaped, drug-chemist, slave. They have a bad time, finding comfort in each other.

After decades of indentured servitude on Al Murray’s private moon, Alex has made a break for it – scrambling through a junkyard in a desperate bid for freedom. He’s terrified, bleeding, and fears a laser blast in his back at any moment, but he would never in a million years expect to literally stumble upon a half-junked spaceship from the war in need of a name, a purpose, and most of all, a friend.

He reaches out his hand, and carefully wipes away years and years of dust from the cold metal surface – feeling the engraving rippling on his fingertips. The plaque reads “Geran Republic 3Ө, Stellar Monitor Warship” There’s a date too – which seems to be the commission date – forty-three years ago.

“Can I call you Greg?”

Animated gif commissioned from the incomparable @debbie-sketch. Absolutely beautiful, such soft warm colours, and has a bit of an Iron Giant vibe! They were a delight to work with <3

[alastor-simp]

AGAIN THIS EPISODE HIT ME RIGHT IN THE FEELS😭😭💔💔

GODDAM YOU VIVZIE, LET THE TWO MAKE UP ALREADY! MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!!

I’m honestly glad Blitz and Verosika made up, but now it’s time for Stolas and Blitz to make amends and start over. Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh