#mavel angst

[guilty-ff]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐭.5

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Previously: After years of brutal torture by Francis, Y/N finally escaped, fighting her way out of the lab and fleeing into the dense woods. Each step was a struggle, but she knew she couldn't stop. With the guards on her heels, she disappeared into the shadows, determined to reclaim her life.

This story takes place between the second and third movies (warning: not 100% movie/comic accurate)

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x (fem!)Reader

Genre: Angst, revenge, Fanfiction, Marvel

Warnings: Movie Spoilers! Explicit content, swearing, torture, mental health, weapons

Word count: 3640

The slums were from now on her home. Y/n had escaped from the clutches of the facility, but the scars of her past- both mental and physical- were still engraved deeply in her body. The nights were the hardest, when the world around her was quiet and the memories screamed the loudest. She lived in a cramped, old apartment, the flickering neon lights outside her window casting shadows on the walls.

It had been weeks since her escape, weeks of hiding and laying low, blending into the filthiness of the city. Here, she was just another face in the crowd, another soul struggling to survive. But she was different. She could feel the darkness within her, the uncontrollable power that surged through her veins. She had to find a way to control it, to suppress it before it consumed her.

Y/n spent her days looking for information, piecing together bits of knowledge about mutants, about powers like hers. She searched through the back alleys and seedy bars, listening to rumors and whispered conversations. Slowly, she began to understand the nature of her abilities, the twisted gift that had been forced upon her. But understanding was not enough. She needed control.

One night, in a ed bar that reeked of sweat and stale beer, Y/n finally found a lead. She had been sitting at the counter, nursing a glass of cheap whiskey, when she overheard a conversation between two men at the next table. They spoke in low tones, their words slurred from alcohol, but Y/n's ears caught every word.

"Essex House... that place was a nightmare," one of the men muttered, his face half-hidden in the shadows. "They did some real messed up shit there."

The other man, a burly figure with a ashen beard, nodded grimly. "I heard they had a way to control mutants. Some kind of device."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat. She leaned closer, pretending to adjust her coat as she listened.

"Yeah, I know a guy who used to work there," the bearded man continued. "Big guy, real quiet. He hangs around here sometimes."

Y/n did not waste any time. She slid over to their table, her movements smooth. "Mind if I join you?" she asked, her voice low and steady.

The men exchanged a glance, then shrugged. "Sure, why not?" the bearded man said, gesturing to the empty seat.

Y/n sat down, fixing them with a piercing gaze. "I couldn't help but overhear. You mentioned Essex House. I'm looking for someone who worked there. A guard, maybe?"

The first man, looked her up and down suspiciously. "Why do you want to know?"

"Let's just say I'm looking for answers," Y/n replied, her tone leaving no room for argument. "If you can help me, I'd appreciate it."

The bearded man scratched his chin, his eyes narrowing. "I don't know his name, but he's usually around here. I'd be careful, though. He doesn't like to be bothered."

"Point him out," Y/n she said, her eyes scanning the bar.

The bearded man nodded toward the far corner, where a large figure sat hunched over the bar, nursing a drink. "That's him."

Y/n followed his gaze and saw the man- a huge, muscled frame with a shaved head and a face that looked like it had seen more than its fair share of violence. He was a mountain of a man, his broad shoulders hunched over as he downed another shot of whiskey. There was a darkness about him, an aura of danger that warned others to keep their distance.

Y/n thanked the men and made her way toward the bar, her eyes never leaving the figure in the corner. She did not approach him directly, instead choosing to observe him from a distance, waiting for the right moment. 

The man continued to drink heavily, oblivious to the world around him. It was not long before he started to show signs of drunkenness- his movements sloppy, his head nodding as if fighting off sleep.

Now. This was her chance.

Y/n moved swiftly, her steps silent on the worn wooden floor. She slipped behind the man, her hand reaching into her coat to retrieve a small vial of chloroform and a cloth. In one fluid motion, she pressed the cloth over the man's face, her other arm locking around his throat.

The man struggled, his instincts kicking in despite his drunken state, but Y/n was quick and precise. Within seconds, his body went limp, his heavy frame slumping against the bar.

She wasted no time. With the strength born from desperation, Y/n dragged the unconscious man out of the bar, navigating through the back alleys until she reached her hideout.

The basement of an abandoned building, it was cold and damp, the walls lined with old newspapers and broken furniture. She had set up a small, makeshift interrogation room- just a chair and a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

Y/n tied the man to the chair, securing his wrists and ankles with thick rope. She stood back, her heart pounding as she waited for him to wake up. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, her hands shaking slightly as she paced the room.

Finally, the man moved slightly, his dazed eyes blinking against the harsh light. He groaned, tugging at the ropes before realizing he was restrained. Panic flickered across his face as he looked around, his gaze settling on Y/n, who stood before him with a cold, determined expression.

"What the hell—?" he began, his voice stammered from the lingering effects of the chloroform.

"Shut up," Y/n snapped, stepping closer. "I'm the one asking questions. You're going to answer them."

The man's eyes narrowed, anger replacing his initial fear. "You've got no idea who you're messing with."

"Oh, I think I do," Y/n replied, her voice icy. "You used to work at Essex House. You were a guard there."

The man's expression hardened, his jaw clenching. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Y/n's patience was wearing thin. She had spent too long hiding, too long searching for answers, to be stonewalled by this brute. She leaned in, her face inches from his, her voice low and menacing.

"Don't lie to me," she hissed. "I know what they did in that place. The experiments, the torture. I know about the children. If you think I'm bluffing, you're sorely mistaken."

The man's boldness stopped for a moment, but he quickly recovered, sneering at her. "You don't know shit."

Her hand moved faster than he could react, striking him hard across the face. His head snapped to the side, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"I said, don't lie to me!" Y/n shouted, her voice trembling with fury. "I know what kind of monster you are. I know what you did to those kids. Now tell me about the device that suppresses mutant powers."

The man spat blood onto the floor, glaring up at her aggressively. "Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you."

Y/n's fist connected with his jaw again, this time with more force. The man groaned, his head lolling forward as he struggled to stay conscious.

"You have no idea what I've been through," Y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The things I've seen, the pain I've endured. If you think for one second that I won't make you suffer, you're dead wrong. Now, talk."

The man's resolve began to crumble under the weight of her words, the fear returning to his eyes. He took a heavy breath, finally giving in.

"There's a wristband," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "It was designed to suppress mutant powers. But that place... it's gone. Some kid blew it up, the whole building came down."

Y/n's heart raced as she absorbed his words. "Where can I find one?"

The man hesitated, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for a way out. Finally, he sighed in defeat.

"Maybe there's still some in the storage rooms beneath the building. But it's dangerous. The whole place is crawling with security, even now."

Y/n stared at him for a long moment, her mind racing. She had what she needed, but the anger still burned within her, the memories of those children haunting her every thought.

"And one more thing," the man added, his voice a broken whisper. "There were others involved in that explosion. A man in a red and black suit... mutants from the X-Men... and some scary guy with a teddy bear."

The mention of the man in the red and black suit made Y/n's blood run cold. Wade. The man responsible for her suffering. But she pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.

"Thank you," she said coldly, before slamming her fist into his face one last time. The man's head snapped back, and he slumped in the chair, unconscious.

"You deserve much more, you little piece of shit," Y/n muttered, her voice thick with disgust. She untied him and dragged him out to a nearby street, leaving him there to be found. She had no use for him anymore.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈•

The ruins of Essex House stood before Y/n like a tombstone, a monument to the atrocities that had taken place within its walls. The once impressive structure was now a gutted shell, its walls burned and crumbling, overtaken by creeping vines and nature's slow reclamation. The air was thick with the stench of decay and rot, a fitting aura for a place that had been a living nightmare for so many.

Y/n moved silently through the rubble, her senses heightened, every sound increased in the stillness of the night. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long, sinister shadows that danced across the broken ground. 

She had checked out the area earlier, avoiding the main entrances, which were still patrolled by security teams guarding whatever was left in the aftermath of the explosion, a few months ago. She needed to find the storage rooms beneath the building, where the guard had said the wristbands might still be.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked through a craggy opening in the wall, her eyes scanning the darkened interior. The building's skeleton remains were a labyrinth of broken beams and collapsed ceilings, the floors plastered with rubble and shattered glass. Every step was a calculated risk, the floorboards creaking ominously beneath her weight.

Y/n made her way down a long corridor, the walls covered in peeling paint and faded sceneries that had once depicted happy, smiling children- an ironic touch for a place that had been anything but.

Her breath stuck in the throat like there's a blockage as she approached a large door at the end of the corridor, its frame cracked and splintered. The guard's words echoed in her mind, urging her forward. She pushed the door open, and stepped into a vast chamber that had once been a laboratory.

Y/n's breath stopped as her eyes landed on the twisted metal chair in the center of the room. It was unmistakable- a torture device designed to restrain and torment its victims. The cold steel of the torture chair, the searing pain of electric currents coursing through her body. The sight of it brought a wave of nausea crashing over her, memories of her own time in such a chair flooding her mind, the mocking laughter of Francis as he watched her suffer in agony.

Flashback

She was strapped to the chair, her wrists bound with cold, hard metal. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of disinfectant and blood. Francis stood before her, his cold eyes glinting with sadistic glee. He was dressed in his usual black combat gear and white coat, his arms folded as he watched her struggle against the restraints.

"Ready for another round, sweetheart?" he sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She was drenched in sweat, her body trembling from the aftershocks of the last session. She had lost count of how many times he had done this to her, how many times he had pushed her to the brink of death, only to pull her back and start again.

"Please... no more," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Francis chuckled, his laughter a cruel, grating sound that echoed in the small room. "Oh, I'm just getting started," he said, reaching for the control panel beside the chair. His fingers danced over the buttons, and a low hum filled the air as the machine powered up.

Y/n's eyes widened in fear as the currents of electricity surged through her body, her muscles spasming uncontrollably. The pain was unbearable, like being ripped apart from the inside. She screamed, the sound tearing from her throat, but there was no one to hear her, no one to save her.

Francis watched with detached amusement, his expression one of mild curiosity. "You know, it's fascinating," he mused, his voice calm and measured. "Watching how much pain a person can endure before they break. You're tougher than most, I'll give you that."

Her vision blurred as the pain reached a crescendo, her mind teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. But she held on, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her broken. She had to survive, had to escape, no matter what it took.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the currents stopped, and Y/n slumped in the chair, her body limp and exhausted. Francis leaned in close, his face inches from hers.

"Don't worry, darling," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "We'll keep doing this until you learn to behave."

Present

Y/n snapped back to the present, her hands trembling as she stared at the torture chair. The memories were like a vice around her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. But she could not afford to break down now, not when she was so close. She forced herself to move, to search the room for the wristband.

The storage room was hidden behind a steel door, half-buried under rubble. Y/n unlocked it with a crowbar she had found earlier, using all her strength to pull the door free. Inside, she found a small, windowless room lined with shelves. Dust coated everything, the air stale and suffocating. She searched through the shelves, her hands moving frantically as she searched for the device.

Finally, her fingers closed around a small, sleek wristband, its surface smooth and cold to the touch. This was it- the device that could suppress her powers, that could give her the control she so desperately needed.

But as she pulled the wristband from the shelf, a shrill alarm pierced the air, the sound reverberating through the building. Panic surged through Y/n as she realized she had triggered a security system, her heart racing as the distant sound of footsteps echoed through the halls.

She had to get out, and fast.

Y/n bolted from the storage room, clutching the wristband tightly in her hand. She sprinted down the corridor, her mind a blur as she searched for an escape route. The footsteps were getting closer, the shouts of guards filling the air.

She spotted a window at the end of the hall, its glass cracked but still intact. Without hesitation, she launched herself at it, her shoulder slamming into the glass. The window shattered with a deafening crash, and Y/n tumbled through the opening, her body twisting in midair.

The world spun around her as she rolled to her feet, glass shards cutting into her skin. But there was no time to stop, no time to recover her injuries. The guards were right behind her.

Y/n ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she sprinted through the darkened streets. The sounds of pursuit faded into the distance, but she did not stop. She could not stop. Not until she was safe.

Finally, after what felt like hours, she slowed to a halt, her body aching and exhausted. She had made it. She had escaped, and she had the wristband. But as she stood there, alone in the shadows, the memories of Essex House lingered in her mind, a reminder of the horrors she had endured- and the revenge she would soon unleash.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈•

Y/n sat in her dimly lit hideout, the cold, metal wristband clasped tightly in her hand. She had waited for this moment, the promise of control over her powers finally within her grasp. With a deep breath, she slipped the wristband onto her wrist. A series of tiny, almost inaudible clicks signaled its activation. She felt a slight hum of energy ripple through her body, a sensation that was both foreign and strangely comforting.

"Okay, Y/n," she whispered to herself, her voice barely more than a murmur in the silence. "Time to see if this thing really works."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she picked up a small, sharp knife. She took a moment to steel herself before pressing the blade against the palm of her hand. Slowly, deliberately, she drew the knife across her skin, wincing as a thin line of blood welled up. She braced herself for the familiar agony of her powers activating, but to her astonishment, the pain remained localized. The cut did not heal as it usually would.

"It works," she breathed, a mix of relief and awe in her voice. "It actually works."

She wrapped her hand in a bandage, her mind already racing with the possibilities. For the first time in years, she felt like she had a measure of control over her life, over her destiny. She was not just a victim of her circumstances; she could be the master of them.

Over the next two years, Y/n threw herself into training with a passion that bordered on obsession. She perfected her combat skills, mastering various martial arts and weapons. She trained with knives, guns, and swords, each session pushing her limits further. Her hideout became a makeshift dojo, littered with training equipment and weapons of all kinds.

Her reputation in the slums grew as she took on hitman jobs to fund her training. She became a ghost, an unseen force of retribution for those who could not fight back.

One evening, she was approached by a woman with bruised arms and tear-streaked cheeks.

"Please," the woman begged, her voice trembling. "My husband... he beats me. I can't take it anymore. Please, make him stop."

Y/n looked into the woman's eyes, seeing the same helplessness and desperation she had felt so many times before. "What's his name?" she asked quietly.

"Jack. Jack Thompson. He works at the docks," the woman replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n nodded. "Consider it done. He won't hurt you again."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈•

Two years had passed since Y/n had escaped from Francis, two years of relentless training and hard-earned survival. She decided it was time to visit her own grave, a symbolic gesture to honour the person she once was. She made her way to a small flower shop, her mind set on finding the perfect bloom.

As she approached the counter to pay for a single white lily, she saw a woman laughing and chatting with the shopkeeper. The sight made her freeze. It was Vanessa. Alive and well, her smile as bright as ever. Y/n's heart clenched painfully in her chest, pulling her hood that covered her face even more down. She quickly paid for the flower and fled the shop, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and anger.

She reached her grave, a simple, unadorned headstone with her name etched into the cold marble. The vase next to it was empty.

"I see," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Forgotten and abandoned, even in death."

She knelt down, placing the lily in the empty vase. "I can't remember my old self," she said softly, tears welling in her eyes. "She truly did die, as well as her trust in you."

Her thoughts turned dark as she slowly stood up. Wade had saved Vanessa, she realized, her mind piecing together the puzzle with cold clarity.

He must have used Cable's time travel device during the Mutant Rehabilitation incident to go back and save her... but he left me to die.

As she turned and walked away from the grave, she could feel a rising tide of hatred surging within her, anger directed at Wade for abandoning her, for choosing Vanessa over her.

Later that evening, Wade approached the same grave. He was dressed in his red and black costume, the weight of his grief and guilt heavy on his shoulders. In his hand, he held a brand-new flower and a polished vase. He had not missed a single visit, always coming back to this lonely, forgotten corner of the cemetery to leave a token of his sorrow and love.

As he knelt down to place the new flower in the vase, he noticed the fresh lily already there, wilting slightly in the cold night air.

"Who...?" Wade muttered to himself, confusion furrowing his brow. He looked around, but the cemetery was empty and silent.

He placed his own flower beside the lily, a pang of sadness piercing his heart. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the grave. "I'm so damn sorry."

He stood there for a long moment, staring at the headstone as if willing it to give him some sort of answer, some sign that she knew he had not given up on her, that he still mourned her every day.

But the silence of the graveyard offered no reunion, only deepened the gap of misunderstanding that was growing between them, unseen and unspoken.

As Y/n made her way back through the slums, her mind was a storm of emotions. She was determined now, fueled by a dark purpose. She had been forgotten, left to rot in the shadows while Wade had moved on, living his best life with Vanessa.

A twisted sense of revenge began to take root in her heart, and she knew that the next time she crossed paths with Wade, it would be on her terms. And when that day came, there would be a reckoning.

[thisisarcanereverie]

Monster (DARK! Moon Knight x FEM! Reader) Part 2 (final)

A/N: This is part 2, this is going to be the last part I will write to this while I focus on some other fics for you guys, Also found the header on pinterest idk who the original maker of it is, if you know please tag them in this post.

Also thank you all for all your lovely comments on the first part of this, It's been a while since I posted so it was great to hear positive things.

Word Count: 2.7K

WARNINGS: Dark themes; mentions of abuse (domestic, physical, mental),Marc being an absolute wreck of a person, unrequited love, Layla being ooc, Marc being a little ooc, 18 + MINORS DNI.

Summary: Marc has loved you for ten years, ever since he met you, Layla's best friend. But can you truly love the monster beneath the skin?

You arrived at his place ten minutes after the call, when he opened the door he wasn’t sure if your face was wet because of the rain or because of the tears. He had ushered you inside immediately and tried to get you warm clothes when you stopped him and handed him something. Neither of you said a word as he opened the crumpled piece of paper you handed him. 

To You, 

By the time you read this I’ll be gone. Maybe that is for the best. 

I know you say you don’t love Marc, not in that way. But I saw the way he looked at you the other night, like you were the sun; and the way he held you. I had been married to Marc for ten years, and never once did he look at me or hold me the way he did you that night. Not even during our wedding. 

You were my best friend. All I’ve ever wanted for you was the best; and while Marc might not have been my best, he’s yours. I was wrong for bringing up ‘him’, I was jealous and bitter and I should never have let it get the better of me. That was fucked up and I regret it. 

I don’t regret leaving though, at least I hope I don’t. I realized something that night, I can’t move forward if I’m stuck in the past, and you and Marc; you’re the past, along with this city. I can’t live here any longer, strolling through streets that we used to, reliving old memories that leave me sick with sadness. I just can’t. And you can’t move forward either, not with me here reminding you of broken promises and trust. I contacted a few people, got myself a new passport, phone number, and identity. As far as anyone is concerned, Layla El-Fouley is a ghost. So please, don’t try to find me. It’s better this way.

I love you both, goodbye. 

Layla. 

Marc held the piece of paper in his hand, something about it off but he didn’t care. All he understood was that Layla, who had been his biggest obstacle, had removed herself. But in doing so, has left you distraught, he could see your hands trembling at their sides and the rim around your eyes puffy and red. It broke his heart to see you like this, so much that he almost wished Layla would come back. 

“Something about it isn’t right.” Your voice was scratchy as you spoke, “I know Layla and she never would’ve done this.” 

“I wouldn’t say never,” Marc put the crumpled piece of paper aside, “she was acting off the other night.” 

“She was drunk,” you defended her, even now, “people say and do things that they don’t mean when they’re drunk all the time.” 

‘Like you?’ Marc thought, his mind bringing up the kiss you both shared. How electrifying it was for him, and he thought for you as well. 

Did you regret it?

Before he could ask you grabbed the paper next to him and stashed it in your pocket. 

“Something isn’t right,” you repeated, “I know it isn’t, I can feel that there’s something wrong. Like it’s something right in front of me and it’s laughing at me in the face.” 

“Calm dow-”

“Don’t,” you say simply looking at him in the face, eyes pointed, “don’t you dare tell me to calm down.”

“Listen,” Marc gruffed, “I know this is hard, Layla was your best friend but maybe you should let this go. You know her, once she makes up her mind that’s the end of it.” He watches as your eyes narrow in on him, studying him. For once he felt vulnerable, like he’s been stripped bare and you could see all of his sins. 

He didn’t like it. 

“You don’t care.” It wasn’t a question, and Marc knew better than to respond. You tore your eyes away from him and laughed, but not the ones that sounded like bells, this was cold and cynical. This was an unfamiliar side to you, one he has never seen. It was like someone had turned off the sun, and all that was left was darkness. 

“She was your wife,” you continued looking anywhere but him, “Layla was your wife, you shared your life with her for ten years. You protected her for years and for what, for now to be the time you stopped protecting her? To say ‘who cares’.” You pushed him away as he tried to get near you, “No Marc, that’s bullshit and you know it.” You grab the coat that you had hung over the chair, “I’m going to find her. Because I care, because right now she is out there and I don’t know if she’s ok. If I find her and she turns me away, fine I’ll go, then I’ll know that she really doesn’t want to see me again and I’ll respect that. But until I know that she is ok, and safe, I’m not going to stop.” 

Frustration rose in him with each step you made to the front door. As soon as your hand touched the knob he removed it, and turned you to face him. 

“So that’s it then,” Marc could feel his control over his emotions slip away, “you’re just going to go and chase a ghost and we’re not going to talk about that night.” his arms caged you against the door. He could see your eyes looking at him, but it wasn’t with the same soft tenderness that he had grown accustomed to, your eyes were sharp and pointed, your brows furrowed leaving a small crinkle in between them. You were silent, fuming really, he was as well. Steven however was telling Marc that he was hurting you. To let go. 

Not this time. 

Suddenly there was a shift in your eyes, the anger was replaced by a look Marc was familiar with. He had seen it plenty of times when you and Steven read books together, you only get that look when you’ve reached the climax or some big reveal was made. 

It was the look you only got when you’ve had a breakthrough. 

“You’re in love with me.” Again, not a question, as soon as those words left your lips it was like a weight had been lifted from him. One that he didn’t know he was shouldering. For years he’s had to keep his feelings for you to himself, never telling anyone let alone you. Now that you know, he doesn’t need to pretend anymore. He doesn’t have to watch from afar. 

You know. 

“Have been since I first saw you,” Marc confessed as a giddy feeling took over, “God you have no idea how good it feels to say that.” His hands went from your shoulders to cradle your face, his forehead touching yours, he didn’t even notice how tense you had become. “You have had no idea what it’s been like to love you.”

   “Marc,” you finally gain enough confidence in your voice to speak. He opens his eyes and looks into yours, he denies what he sees. He tells himself that those tears in your eyes aren’t because you pity him or don’t feel the same way. It’s because you’re so in love with him that it’s overwhelming, or that the doorknob is digging uncomfortably into your back as he presses you further into it, or that he’s accidentally stepping on your toe. Anything but that you don’t love him. “Please let me go.” 

“Never baby,” He breathes, “now that I have you why would I ever let go?”

“Marc,” You say, “Steven,” you try. But nothing, Steven went into hiding and Marc felt like he was on cloud nine. How addicting you had become, the mere thought of letting you out of his arms was enough to make him weep. “I have to go, please.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Marc says, your words cutting through him like a serrated blade. “You don’t have to go, you never have to go.” 

“Please Marc, you're hurting me.” It was only then he noticed how tight his grip had become on you. He immediately let go, as you breathed a sigh of relief. He still pinned you against the door, but his grip was lighter, he had gotten carried away without knowing. 

“I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered apologies as he kissed where his hands had been. Lingering every kiss longer than the last. 

“Marc,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to go an octave higher, “I’m feeling hungry do we still have food in the fridge?” Right you must be starving, you probably didn’t eat anything yet today. 

“There might be something left,” he said gently leaning away from you and walking towards the fridge, “let me go check real-” the last thing he remembers was the sound of the front door slamming before everything went black. 

When he came to it looked like half the day already went by, and there was this bone deep ache in his body. At first he thought he was still in his apartment but upon closer inspection he quickly realized it was definitely someplace else. 

“buenos dias pendejo,” Marc quickly whipped his head around, seeing no one. At least, until he saw the mirror. The man before him was not him, or Steven. It was someone new. 

A new altar.

“Fuck me.” 

“No thank you.” 

“Who are you?” Marc asked, feeling a headache already coming.

“Jake Lockley,” He revealed

“How long have you been here?” 

“A long time,” Jake said, his voice still holding a small latin accent, “we have a mutual friend.” 

“Who in the hell-” Marc asked until he caught a familiar figure looming behind his altar’s reflection in the mirror.

Khonshu

“We meet again, Marc Spector.”

“No,” Marc said, his hands already tangled in his curly hair, “Nononononononono-” He kept repeating as if willing it away. As if the simple word ‘no’ was going to help him escape this hell. All of that, the pain and suffering and sacrifice it took to get rid of Khonshu.

In the end it didn’t mean a goddamn thing. 

“Cálmate Marc,” Jake tried to sooth, “everything will be ok.” 

“Why is he here?!” Marc asked, “I got rid of him, why is he here!” 

“Because of me,” Jake said, “I needed a purpose and he needed a Knight. I only took up the job you and that pequeño cobarde, Steven, refused.” Marc put his head in his hands, of course, of fucking course this was happening. How could he and Steven be so stupid. Khonshu would never have agreed to honor their deal unless he had something under his tattered sleeve. Really, he should’ve seen it coming. Maybe he knew, deep down, but denied it, hoping it would go away. All those times during Ammit where he and Steven would black out  and bodies piled around him. But he always pushed it down, denied it, anything but addressed it. 

Ultimately, this was all Marc’s fault, and he knew it. 

The clanking of chains suddenly made it to Marc’s ears as he turned in its direction, only to be met with you. Your ankle was chained to the bed frame, it creaked as you turned on the mattress. It was then Marc remembered what happened. 

You knew. 

You finally knew of Marc’s feelings, and while he may have lost himself a bit in the reverie of it all, you shouldn’t have tricked him like that. You distracted him while you ran, maybe if you didn’t run you both wouldn’t be here right now. 

But he can’t place the blame on you, how were you supposed to know how fucked up he truly was when he didn’t even know. 

“You should be thanking us worm.” Khonshu’s arrogant voice rang out, back when Marc was his primary Avatar that voice would fill him with dread. 

It still did. 

“Why?” Marc said to the towering god, “for going back on your word, for taking advantage of me and using my own alters against me?”��

“You insolent-” 

“No,” Jake interrupted, “You should thank us for getting rid of the one thing that was going to keep you happy.” 

“And what would that be?”

“Layla,” Jake revealed, a blood curdling grin stretching across his face. Marc could feel the temperature drop around him as he processed it. If he focused enough he could hear a faint echo of a gunshot, the familiar burn of the recoil. 

“She didn’t suffer,” Jake comforted, “I made sure she didn’t. But she was standing in the way of our happily ever after so to speak.”

Marc didn’t know if he should feel pleased or guilty. 

Maybe the lines between the two have been blurred beyond hope. 

“She’ll never forgive us.” 

“Then let that be the case,” Jake retorted, “we don’t need her forgiveness, we just need her.” Marc wanted it though, he wanted her forgiveness, craved it, like she alone could atone for all the hellish things he’s done. One thing was nattering away at him however, and his shadow loomed over him and shrouded him in darkness as he always had. 

 “What did you promise Khonshu for this?” Marc asked, “because he never does anything for

free.” 

“It was a gift.” Khonshu explained casually, “you see Marc, I reward faithful Avatars, something you can be again.” 

Before he could tell the bird to fuck off he heard you take in a sharp breath. His eyes tore themselves away from Khonshu and onto your frame. He could hear Steven faintly telling him to unchain you. But the darker part of him, one that wasn’t sure was Jake’s or his, told him no. That this is what he deserved, after all these years of pining and agony, this was his reward. 

You were his reward. 

The only light that illuminated you was the moon, casting you in its ethereal glow. 

“I will admit this Marc,” Jake said, “She looks like a dream come true.” 

Sure enough you did, you always did to him. Marc could hear Steven quieting, he could sense him enough to know he was observing, but nothing more. 

Your eyes landed on him and immediately you backed up until your back hit the backboard. 

“You can unchain her if you want,” Jake said, “She can’t escape here.” 

Marc did exactly that, not wanting the cuff to bruise your ankle. He was surprised when you didn’t move after, or that you didn’t try to run away. You were still, studying him like you did back at the apartment. 

Only now your eyes were tinged in fear. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Marc assured, “I’m not like that.” 

“I used to think that too,” You quipped while your eyebrows furrowed and your nails dug into the sheets beneath you, “I used to think a lot of things.” a moment of silence before you continued, “like how great you were and how lucky I was to know you, or how you were just misunderstood. I know better now, meeting you was the unluckiest moment in my entire life and I didn’t even know it. And you’re not misunderstood,” You leaned closer, eyes narrowed as nothing but pure hate filled them cutting him deep, “you’re just a monster.” Before you knew it he leaped from the bed away from you. 

“NO!” He screamed hot tears filling his dark eyes, “no.” he repeats quieter this time his hands gripping his hair in a death grip, “You don’t get to say that to me, not you.” After a few more seconds of sobbing he calms down, you look at him with nothing but pity and contempt. “You love me,” he says voice hoarse, “you just need some time.” He walks shakily to the door and opens it, and before you could run towards it again he walks through and locks it behind him. You just needed some time alone, that’s all, to see that he loves you. 

That while he may be a monster. 

He was yours for better or for worse. 

He was your monster.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The sound of the monster

Warning : blood, horror, angst, dead, little emotional

Masterlist, next part

------------------------

The nightmares seemed real. The monster was real, the blood was real. Michael was alive and yet seemed so changed. Could it be that her dreams were real in some way? But if this were true, how far would reality stretch? Would Michael kill her or would they both die from a stake through the heart or be burned to ashes by Milo? Milo what would concern was he their common murderer.

As if spellbound, she still stared at her changed lover. The monster turned his gaze away again and continued to feast on the torn body, which was only recognizable by the individual bones and body parts. The blood dripped quietly like a rhythm from the walls and began to collect in puddles.

It seemed as if the ship was drowning itself from the inside. They were all drowning in blood. It was horrible as if the monster was playing a completely different symphony than they were. So full of power and hate. Full of desire for...blood.

After Michael had worked on the torn body again, he was suddenly standing in front of her as if he were through the air, and only the transparent pane separated him from her. ,, Michael?" she asked his name, hoping that the creature would recognize her. His head moved up and for a moment it looked as if the red eyes would show something like softness to her. But this disappeared instantly and he growled at her.

Startled, she backed away but kept her gaze on him. ,, What the hell is this?" came from the entrance of the laboratory as the other mercenaries entered. The two women startled and immediately tried to get them out of the lab. ,, You shouldn't be here!" came from Martine, who tried unsuccessfully to get the group back out. But before she could do anything, one of the mercenaries lunged with the handle of his gun and knocked her unconscious.

The older of the two women immediately went down, but what made Y/n flinch was the thud that came when Martine's head hit the metal table and she went down. ,, Martine" came like a worried whisper from her lips and when she heard the click of a trigger her eyes went to the weapon. ,, Open the damn door!" one of the mercenaries shouted at her. One shot and I'm dead, she thought again and raised her hands slightly. The silly attempt to protect herself and somehow survive. But before she could move at all, a bloodcurdling sound came from Michael.

She saw it again as if Michael was controlling the air around him. He seemed to disappear before he slammed into the window. The group backed away, but Y/n seemed unable to break free of her fearful stare. She pointed her weapons at Michael and declared him the new target.

Again and again before a big crack spread out of the glass, ,, Michael" his name came over her lips innocently and yet full of fear before the glass broke. The shards flew around and Michael jumped out before he landed on the floor. His red eyes full of greed lingered briefly on Martine and he growled before turning to look at her, surprised.

For a moment there was softness in his gaze before he growled at her and seemed to disappear into the air again. Then, as the first shots flashed brightly across the room, Y/n hid out of fear instinct. She peeked around one of the tables and saw Michael appear and disappear in seconds. He was not human, too fast for her to see him. Only a kind of smoke and fog was visible before the monster scurried on.

But the horror continued as what lit the room besides the gunshots were the death screams and the tearing of bodies. It seemed as if knives were rammed into the bodies only to scurry on and choose its next victim. Y/n closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her ears. She didn't want to hear it and she didn't want to see it. She wanted her Michael back not the monster. Not the murderer.

It seemed endless, but in reality it was barely more than a few minutes before the screams and growls died away. She opened her eyes and took her hands from her ears before she stumbled around the table, heart pounding and adrenaline pumping. The horror she thought when she saw what Michael had left behind.

Corpses nothing but torn and violated with limbs torn off body parts. Her vomit came up as she saw the various body parts lying around, muscles and bones hanging loosely from some joints. It was of course the inside of the human being and yet so infinitely cruel. A special symphony.

When she stood up and took the first steps to get to Martine, she flinched and stood rooted to the spot as something dripped on her. Her hand trembled when she looked at it and saw a drop of blood. The room seemed to be swimming in blood.

Only when she had somehow convinced her head that there was nothing in the corners did she go to Martine. She knelt down next to the apparently dead woman and felt for a pulse. It was weak and yet she was alive, she would not die, not like Michael. But was he dead at all? Was he not perhaps even alive and yet dead.

With effort, she dragged Martine to the cot and roughly checked her vitals. But relieved she found out that her friend was stable. When she heard more screams, she jerked again and the adrenaline flowed through her body, watching for any small movement in the darkness. Her head turned towards the security cameras and she knew that there she would see only another image of horror.

But curiosity outweighed fear and she convinced herself that it was only there to observe everything. Arriving at the cameras, she dared to take a look. To her horror, she found out that there were a dozen more mercenaries and she didn't want that. But this was settled in the next few minutes, as it seemed to be playing out across the screens. The massacre. One after the other was torn apart and sucked out by the monster and was left lying carelessly dead.

Only after each individual death was desecrated on the ground did the monster disappear into a foggy blind spot and Y/n was disoriented. Fear gripped her, she had neither orientation nor a weapon and could not assess Michael's condition. Breathing heavily with rushing blood, she went to one of the former mercenaries and fished out one of the weapons from the dismembered bloody body.

The blood stuck to her fingers as she grasped the weapon and went to Martine with it. It was heavy in her hands and she had never used one before. But using a weapon was not too difficult, she hoped. Even though her conscious mind was telling her that she had no chance against Michael. Because if he disappeared again, she would end up just as cut up, bloodless and dead, or her heart would break through and her Michael would speak to her.

She sat down with Martine and her gaze went to the heavy metal door. ,, Everything will be all right...we can do this" she said to the unconscious Martine and pulled the blanket on Martine's shoulders. But as the minutes and hours passed, the adrenaline wore off and tiredness took hold of her body. She didn't notice that her eyes were closing and she fell into a light and rough sleep.

A sound like footsteps made her jump up and the barrel of the gun was pointed in the direction of the door and pointed at a person. ,, Y/n," came the soothing voice of Michael, who entered with his hands up. ,, What-what happened?" she scowled and lowered the gun slightly.

He was wearing his black pants, but you could see the dark blood stains in the flickering light. His torso no his entire body seemed to have grown muscles. She could see the muscles on his upper body which was visible through the open shirt. His face no longer seemed sunken and it all seemed to make him even more attractive in an aura of fascination.

,, I-I don't know?" he said as if he had to think for himself and his fingers went to his lips. Blood. Blood was on them and he wiped the blood from his chin. ,, Michael?" she asked as if she was afraid the monster would come through again. Slowly he approached her, afraid to scare her, he walked carefully. But what Y/n didn't think about and didn't realize was that she was walking backwards. Whether it was out of fear or panic she did not know.

She bumped into the wall and her eyes remained fixed on Michael like a deer in the headlights. A sound of fear escaped her as Michael suddenly disappeared and appeared seconds later in front of her. Panic gripped the symphony and she closed her eyes. The gun in her hand was snatched away and she felt his cold hand on her wrist. Power infinite power lay behind this grip it was frightening.

,, My blood" came darkly from him and she opened her eyes when she felt his tongue on her palm. His blue eyes were red as if they were filled with the blood of his victims. What he did, however, was lick the blood that belonged to the mercenaries from her hands. ,, Michael" came from her again and she wanted to get out of his grip. But the monster did not seem to appreciate this.

When she saw his claw-like hand hovering in front of her face, she gave Michael a pleading look. ,, Not Michael," he growled, and the last thing she saw was the mist before her head hit the metal wall and she passed out on the floor.

The monster had no mercy, only the desire for blood-her blood. Darkness infinite and yet not passing pervaded her mind. Only when someone shook her awake and an unpleasant sweet smell rose to her nose did she open her eyes. A scream of fear came to her as she saw a person in front of her and could not see clearly due to her being awake.

She tried to get away but the cold metal on her back stopped her. ,, Miss-Miss, please calm down, we are the police," came a voice and something in her head recognized the voice. ,, Rodriguez?" his name came over her lips and the man with the glasses paused. ,, Y/n?" he said, just as confused, and looked at the distraught woman in front of him. He helped her up and Y/n searched the room for Michael, but he seemed to have disappeared. ,, What happened?" she asked, looking down to avoid looking at the bodies.

The man with the glasses was playing with something in his hand that she would most likely equate with a small vial, but she could only guess at the contents. ,, We'd like to know that, too, miss," came a voice and the colleague of her casual acquaintance. ,, We received a message from a male person and it seems that Doctor Michael Morbius is missing because he is not among the dead and not among the living".

At the same time he made a movement towards the corpses as well as towards them. ,, Where is Martine, the other survivor?" she asked, feeling a headache coming on. ,, Martine is your colleague, she is already on her way to the hospital," said the man with glasses and Y/n nodded. ,, Sorry, I know it's a lot but do you know where Michael Morbius could be?" Of course, the question had to be asked sooner or later. She could tell the whole truth, deny it, cry or play crazy. ,, We know he was here, he left this with you, do you know why?" his partner asked, pulling out an evidence bag containing an origami bat.

Michael she thought, and she knew that despite the monster her Michael, her heart was still there. ,, I don't know, it's all a blur and I don't feel well yet," she stammered, giving her best acting talent before leaning teatrally on her acquaintance. ,, We will question you later, get some rest " his partner decided and Y/n was taken past the bodies towards the boat.

Off the ship, out on the water, it seemed like a dream and yet real. She would lie if she said she wasn't afraid of the monster, but what she did know was that she had to find Michael as soon as possible. Because if she didn't, the police would and then there would be no way out, so much was clear to both of their hearts.

[kelsey-t01]

Hello Friends And People Of Tumblr!

My Name Is Kelsey, I Am A 28F Who Uses She/Her Pronouns, And I Am Temporarily Back Looking For Some New RP Partners!

I Have Some Previous Partners That I’m Still Content With, But It Doesn’t Hurt To Find Others Too. I Only Do Fandom RPs Because It’s What I Enjoy Doing The Most! So, Feel Free To Use Your OCs. I Will Only Write As Canon Characters, So Be Understanding Of That For My Side Of Things. I Can Do Double Ups Or 1x1, Whichever You Prefer! I Am A Semi-Lit, 3rd Person, Past Tense Roleplayer/Writer. I Can Usually Give At Least A Paragraph Per Reply And Be Descriptive, But I NEVER Give One Liners. Those Are Boring! Literate RPs Tend To Stress Me Out To The Point That I Just Give Up And Don’t Want To Put The Effort Into Meeting Your Word Count, So I Stick To What’s Easiest For Me. And I DO Ask That If My Way Of Typing Bothers You To Please NOT Interact, Especially Since It’s Been A Habit Of Mine For Years! I Look At Roleplaying As Strictly A Hobby For Something To Do That’s Fun When Life Isn’t Keeping You Busy On Your Feet 24/7.

I Work Part Time Evenings Monday-Friday From 6PM-8PM, (Sometimes 9PM), Depending On How Busy The Day Was. So, I’m A Pretty Active Person For The Most Part. There Will Be Days, Weeks Or Months That I May Not Be As Active! This Would Be Because Of Life In General, Friends, Family, Etc. But I Can Guarantee You That I Will Always Get Back To You Whenever I Can Find The Time To! I Am In The Mountain Time Zone (MT), So Hours May Differ.

I Am Good With ANY Pairings, But I Prefer MxF. I Will Do MxM Or FxF Too, But I Would Prefer For Those Ones To Be Platonic. I Can Make An Exception For Some To Be Romantically Involved With Each Other, But Not Many At All! It Is Just More Of A Comfort Thing For Me, So I Hope We Can Come To An Agreement On That Scenario.

NOTE: SERIOUS Inquiries ONLY

The Fandoms I’m Into Are As Follows:

1. Roswell, New Mexico

2. Riverdale

3. The Walking Dead

4. Stranger Things

5. Walker (CW Series)

6. Supernatural

7. The 100

8. Grey’s Anatomy

9. All American

10. Criminal Minds

11. The Vampire Diaries

12. Pretty Little Liars

13. His Dark Materials (Specifically Because Of The Animals, I’m An Animal Lover)

14. Marvel (MCU ONLY, NO Comicverse)

15. DC/DCEU (Preferably Arrowverse Shows Like The Flash, Supergirl, DC Legends Of Tomorrow, Etc. I WILL Accept Suicide Squad, Wonderwoman, Titans, Aquaman, Etc. Too)

16. Pirates Of The Caribbean

17. Jurassic World/Park

18. Outerbanks

19. WWE

20. Etc. Just Ask, IF Needed!

*HEART* This Or *MESSAGE ME*, If You Are 100% Interested In Plotting Something!

I Use Tumblr DMs ONLY And/Or Discord For Those Who Weren’t Willing To Write On Here, So Either Or Works. Let’s Kill Some Time With Fun!

[eufezco]

civil war!bucky x fem!reader ( angst , fluff ) no use of y/n

based on the captain america: civil war post credits scene

a / n : english is not my first language so yeah 😭 also my request are open for mavel characters (especially bucky and steve)

You had doubted whether to go or not.

You had been up almost all night, the dark circles under your eyes spoke for themselves. You tried to get some sleep but it was impossible. You moved nervously in bed from side to side. After not finding a comfortable position, you got up and started walking around your room in an attempt to calm your nerves but the four walls were suffocating you.

Steve found you throwing up in the bathroom, on your knees, and with tears in your eyes. He held your forehead so you could let it all out and then wiped your mouth. Steve gave you enough time to recompose and when you were done, he sat on the bathroom floor with his back against the wall and let you lean against his chest while you sobbed. You should let him sleep, it had been a long day for everyone, your bodies were still aching from the fight and Steve had enough to worry about. But despite all that, Steve's strong arms held you tightly close to his body, as if he was trying to hold back the part of you that he knew would leave with Bucky.

Steve took you in his arms and carried you to the couch where he placed your head on his lap, wrapped you in a blanket, and caressed your hair until you fell asleep. When you woke up, Steve wasn't home.

You had doubted whether to go or not but in the end, you went because if you didn't, you would never forgive yourself.

—Hi.

—Hey —. Bucky let out all the air he'd been holding in, relieved to see you.

When Steve arrived and you weren't coming with him, Bucky couldn't help but feel bad. He knew it could happen and he didn't blame you for it. You had already lost him twice, you weren't going to take one more, you didn't deserve to go through that again. The idea of being away from you again did not appeal to him either.

Steve, on the other hand, wasn't surprised to see you. Last night you let it all out in the toilet and on his shirt, and you got some sleep, so he figured you would have regained your strength. Or at least you would pretend that you had, the thing was, that he knew you were coming. —I'll go and talk to King T'Challa —. He said and walked out, leaving you and Bucky alone.

You slowly approached the gurney where Bucky was sitting. The metal arm was gone and only the part attached to his shoulder remained. His wounds were treated and on his face, you could finally see a peaceful expression. His brows were not furrowed, his jaw was not clenched, instead he was showing you a sad little smile.

—How are you—? How are you doing?

—I'm good. I'm ready. How are you? —He asked back.

—I'm fine I guess.

After your answer there was silence.

Bucky knew you were lying because of your tone of voice. He was aware of your disagreement with his decision. Steve also had asked him many times if that was what he wanted but this was not about what he wanted or not. Now that he had reclaimed his ability to choose, he had to use it to do what was right, and what was right was to go back to sleep until there existed a way to free him completely from the Winter Soldier program.

—Buck, you know you don't have to do this.

He shook his head at your words. Of course you wouldn't stop trying.

—I can't trust my own mind. —You were going to complain again but he talked before you could. —And as much as I would like to make up for all the time we've lost, I have to do this. Until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head I think going back under is the best thing. For everybody.

Now it was you shaking your head. For everybody but you. After all these years you had finally gotten him back, after thinking he was dead, after fighting your friends defending his innocence, you were going to lose him again.

Without saying a word you placed your hand on top of the one he had resting on his leg. The sad smile appeared on his lips again and he looked down at your hands. The touch of your fingers on his skin felt nothing like the human contact he had been experiencing these past few years. Your touch was gentle, your fingers rested on his hand delicately, as if you were afraid of breaking him. It was the first time in a while that anyone had cared about that. Bucky flipped his hand over to link your fingers together.

Using your free hand you lifted his chin and you not only made him look at you but also made his lips at the perfect height for you to kiss them. You pressed your lips against his, he squeezed your hand. Yours moved from his chin to rest on the side of his jaw, your thumb caressing his cheek. You didn't know how or when you started crying but you felt the hot tears slide down your cheeks until they mixed with the kiss. Bucky felt the salty taste and after a few seconds, he broke away from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours and let your hand go to cup your cheek and wipe your tears.

—You are making this very hard —. He mumbled against your mouth.

You kissed him again because it was either that or trying to convince him one last time not to do it. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, god, if only he had his two arms and could touch you and feel you the way he wanted. Bucky's lips gladly kissed you back one more time, until you both heard Steve fake coughing behind you.

You parted ways, already missing the feeling of his lips and hand on you. Steve came with two nurses and you knew that it was time. You felt your legs weakening but you could not break down in front of Bucky so you hugged yourself and hid yourself in Steve's chest. Your friend wrapped one of his arms around your body.

—She'll be fine. I'll take care of that.

Bucky pressed his lips together and nodded, thanking Steve.

—I'll wait for you —. You said and Bucky flashed you one last smile. He hadn't asked you to because he didn't want to be selfish but he was waiting for you to tell him so. Hearing you say that you’ll wait for him gave him the peace of mind he needed to breathe in the cold gas filling the cryostasis chamber.

[simpcityy]

Where is My Freedom? (Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You went over to greet your new next-door neighbor only be greeted by a handsome and hunk of a man.

Disclaimer: I do not own Mavel or any of its characters! This is a 3-part series so the first part will feel incomplete because it is.

Word count: Around 2K

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), mentions of injuries, abusive husband, physical and mental abuse, Angst if it counts, Hot single dad Miguel 😉, being called wife.

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━┑

It was early in the morning, and you were up baking some welcoming goodies to your next-door neighbors who were busy moving in their boxes into their new home. You tensed feeling the creek of the stairs, it meant your husband was awake getting ready for work. You slowly calm yourself and continue on baking some chocolate chip cookies. “Look at you up early in the morning” Your husband mutters walking over to you, peering over your shoulder as you continue mixing the batter. You only nod, having no strength to answer back. He walked over to the window glaring at the moving truck “Damn neighbors making too much noise this early in the morning” He mutters while you only kept quiet.  His boots make heavy steps as he walks around the kitchen, each of those steps making you tense more and more. “I’m going to be staying at the police station late tonight so don’t expect me for dinner.” He grabs his cup of coffee and heads to you, “Rex is asleep still” He mentioned your son. Oh, your sweet loving toddler who didn’t deserve this broken family. You only nod again, your mouth too dry to give a response back. He gently grabs your chin making you look at him “I told you if you did what you were told, I wouldn’t have to hurt you.” He whispers, “You know how much it hurts me when you’re in pain” He adds on before pecking your lips and walks to the door. “Make sure to give a great impression to the new neighbors, don’t want them thinking we’re rude or anything” He commands before closing the door. The moment your ears picked up the door being locked you took a deep breath. You wiped your mouth from his kiss and rubbed your chin with your long sleeve from his dirty hands. They were cleaned but you only vision his bloody hands ever since the first day he laid his hands or rather fist on you. 

You resume baking, while the cookies lay on the tray in the oven, you take this moment to go upstairs and check on your boy. Hearing the laughter and sound of toys being thrown made you smile. Forgetting everything that happened not long ago with your husband, “Good morning!” You coo to Rex who only coo back happy to see you. “Let's get you dressed and give these cookies to the new neighbors!” You felt the imaginary shackle around your neck break whenever your husband was away from home, knowing he was the one at the end of the chain pulling you down from reaching the clouds of freedom. Your son only bounces on his crib waiting to start the day with his mashed peas. After getting the toddler ready who never makes it easy with his excitement, you finally placed the cookies into a nice platter and wrapped them with a plastic wrap. “Alright, let’s get this started. Remember to smile” You picked up the boy and grabbed the plate. 

Walking down your front yard you saw a little girl playing with chalk on the sidewalk. Right away, you knew this young girl was your new neighbor. Looking around for her parents, you walked up to her after seeing no adult. “Hello there” You gave her the friendliest smile you could muster to not scare the girl. Once you had her attention you continued, “I’m your neighbor from next door, I’ve been wondering where your parents are so I can give you all a welcoming gift” You have to admit, the kid was adorable with what appears to be a soccer jersey. “My Name is Gabriella! “The girl stands up from the sidewalk before spotting the cookies, gasping “I’ll bring my dad!” She yells before running inside the house trying not to bump into the boxes that were placed outside in the lawn. You patiently waited smiling, finding her more adorable and wanting to pinch her cheek but stopped yourself before she ran off. Shifting your son on your hip you heard Gabriella. “Come on!”, “Ya Voy* Briella. A gruff voice response back to her.  

Looking up you were stunned seeing a handsome man that appeared to be her father. He was much taller than your husband and definitely could tell this man works out a lot compared to your husband. You quickly shook those thoughts away ‘Bad (Y/N), he could be a married man and you are married yourself!’ you scold yourself internally before looking up giving a small smile “ I’m sorry if this is a bad time, I wanted to introduce myself.” You finally found your voice before losing it again when the man literally towers over you. It makes you feel weak in the knees and your mind starts to wander over to some little inappropriate thoughts before scolding yourself again mentally. Finding your voice once again once those thoughts were away, “I’m (Y/N) and my son Rex. We’re your next-door neighbor” You nod over to your house. “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood” You lifted the tray of cookies to him. “I made cookies as well.” Gabriella held on to her father's leg smiling at the mention of cookies. “Gracias*, thank you.” He gently takes the tray before looking down at you. “I’m Miguel, thank you for the warm welcome. I know Briella appreciates the gift” He looked at his daughter smiling softly at her before a frown returned to his face. The only thing you could think was, ‘Wow. His resting bitch face is even hot.’ 

“Yes, thank you!” Gabriella says before hugging your waist. You only smile feeling free with this interaction with your new neighbors, a feeling you know won’t last that long. Letting out a soft chuckle, you pat her head “I made them this morning, so they are nice and fresh.” You put Rex down and held his hand getting tired from carrying him. “Was that your husband who left not long ago?” You tense hearing Miguel mention about your husband. Your mouth begins to dry up thinking about him. You only nod and let out a quiet yes. You look over hearing Rex giggle as Gabriella plays peek-a-boo with him. You smile at the interaction before calming down “Yeah, that was my husband, He left in a rush to work. He’s a cop so he’s super busy but I promise you…he’s a good guy…” You say the last part more quietly. You were never one to lie but you didn’t need your new neighbors to know how abusive this bastard was. “Policeman? I see, I guess he’s a busy man” He looks at you, his sharp eye making you go weak. You only nod before looking at Rex. “I should get going, I need to feed Rex.” You excuse yourself “I hope the cookies are to your liking.” Picking up your son, you walk to your door looking back waving as Gabriella waves back happily. 

Miguel only stares as you walk in, the door closing behind you. He looked at the cookies, after being spider-man for 2 years now, he knew something was wrong with you. He saw how you tensed up hearing about your husband. He saw the way your husband glared at him when he walked to his car for work. It didn’t take long for him to put the pieces together. He sighs before looking at his daughter. “Vamos adentro*, let’s eat the cookies” He smiles at his daughter walking inside. 

Afternoon stroll by and you were in the front yard cleaning up the toys Rex had left outside when you were gardening your flowers. After the busy play time, it knocked the boy out and it left you time to wind down. After putting the toys in the bin, you heard footsteps approaching you. Turning around you were met with Miguel blocking the sun with his height. “Miguel, how can I help?” You were surprised from forming a sentence without stuttering. Miguel lets a small smile that makes your heart jump. “I wanted to return the favor, toma*” You stand up seeing your plate with something in it. “Empanadas” He explains as you take the plate smiling. Thanking him, you smelled them. “They smell so good!” You beamed which made the giant blushed a bit before trying to return to his normal frown. “Fresh so it’s better to enjoy them now.” He looks at you watching the empanadas in amazement. You look up before grabbing his wrist gently. “What are you doing?” He panicked a bit before you gently made him sit down on the step of the porch with you. “I know you made them for me and my family, but I want to enjoy them with you.” You smile finding this courage in you to befriend the stranger, well handsome stranger in a way your husband would disapprove. Miguel lets out a quiet chuckle getting comfortable and grabs one empanada. “Ever had one?” He asked as you shook your head no. He lets out a small smile “I promise you’re going to enjoy them, vecinita*” He assures you. 

Your husband drove into the driveway of your house. He came home earlier as someone else was covering his shift. He looks at the passenger side holding a box that contains a gift for you like he always does whenever he hurts you. He grabs it before crushing the small box seeing you smiling and laughing with Miguel, having a good time together. He frowns and gets out of the car leaving the gift behind. He walked up to the gate and put on a smile “I see you’re our new neighbor!” He waves at Miguel; he watches the color drain from your face as you hear him. You quickly stand up “Miguel, this is my husband” You look away quickly. Miguel looks at you, noticing the change in behavior. He looks back at your husband “Miguel, nice to meet you "His voice gruff as he was peering down at him. Your husband stood his ground shaking hands with him “I wish we could talk but I’m tired from a long shift. I hope to get to know you better.” He looks at Miguels eyes before turning to you, holding you by the waist. “If you excuse us” He guides you back inside. You only look back at Miguel before the door closes, signaling you that freedom is gone once again. 

Midnight rolled and you sat in your backyard after having a heated argument with your husband. You applied some liquid bandage on your arm, he threw a glass at you, nothing new to you. You let out a sigh before hissing as the liquid burned when sprayed on. “This is my fault.” You whisper out loud as your husband's manipulation starts to work on you. He yelled how it was your fault wanting to ruin this family and how he works hard for this family. You only make things worse according to him. 

“ You’re wrong” 

You look up gasping at the voice above you. You hold the liquid bandage spray close ready to spray the intruder. “Easy, I want to be able to see” Miguel holds his hands up. You sigh in relief and put the spray down before looking at him “What are you doing here?” You whisper not wanting your husband to wake up. Miguel sat next to you and looked at the first aid kit, noticing how it’s almost empty. ‘I’m guessing it happens a lot’ He concludes to himself before speaking “I heard…the argument and I wanted to see if you’re okay.” He looks at her mumbling as his fangs get in the way. “So…estas bien*?” He asked. You only sigh “No…I…Yes I'm okay…who am I kidding…no I’m not okay but there is nothing I can do” You whisper, “ I’m stuck with him…I don’t have the money to leave him and…I know I need a stable job and place for my son or…he’ll take him away from me…everything is not okay” You whisper before crying silently having enough. Miguel only watches not knowing what to do before slowly embracing you. “Let it out…you’ve been holding it in” He rubs your back. You felt warm and safe in his arms. “I just want to be happy…I always question myself, where is my freedom?” You sobbed into his arms. Miguel only holds you close as he only met you for one day. He knows you need help, not because he’s spider-man but because he’s your neighbor and you look too sweet to go through this. “You just need the key…the key to that freedom” He whispers looking at you. You slowly calmed down thinking of what he said. Key? The key that unlocks the shackle around your neck. What can it be? You look up at Miguel, the moon shining his face making him breathtaking, “Key…” You whisper before looking at his eyes. 

I think I found my key. 

┕━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━┙

Author Notes: Thank you so much for reading and sorry for any grammar mistakes, I hope you all enjoyed it. As you can see...I fell in the Miguel O'hara loophole...I don't want to be save, I want to keep falling in it for a bit longer. Welcome to ask anything! Welcome to the Simp City population: 1 (me so far)

Spanish Translation: 1.Ya Voy - I'm going or I'm coming 2. Gracias - Thank you 3. Vamos Adentro - Let's go inside 4. Toma- Here or take this 5. Vecinita - Little Neighbor 6. Estas Bien- Are you okay or you good?

[jittersbitters]

Current Obsessions + Welcoming +Warnings

Hello, my name is Dee and this is my page of the various interests and Fandom that have taken over my brain and now live rent free.

SANDMAN

Morpheus/Dream

Corinthians

STRANGER THINGS

Steve Harrington

Eddie Munson

Billy Hargrove

Robbin Buckley

GOTHAM/DC

Edward Nigma/Riddler

Jerome Valaska

Jeremiah Valaska

Johnathan Crane/Scarecrow

MAVEL

Matthew Murdock/Daredevil

Loki

Kilgrave (sue me)

SWEETBITTER

Jake

Will

Ari

ARCANE

Viktor

Silco

Vi

HARRY POTTER

Tom Riddle (no moldy voldy love)

Draco

Fred & George

ALTERED CARBON

Takeshi Kovacs (season 1)

HORROR MOVIE CHARACTERS

Ghost Face

Brahms Heelshire

~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Requests/Asks are open (even if I haven't written anything yet)

No set schedual. I write when ever I have the motivation between work and classes.

May or may not be beta read depending on story

Will do one-shot and headcanon along with longer stories. I'm just really slow.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Rules and Warnings

This is a mature page. Everything will be clearly marked with ratings and age restructures. Please listen to the MDNI tags and warnings.

What I will write about: NSFW, moderate age gaps, violence, drugs, mental/physical health issues, light non-con touching, abusive relationships, forced relationships, fluffy, angst, headcanons, death

What I will not write about: Full Non-Con, incest, detail-self harm, detailed suicide, snuff, minors/aging up

Not all of my content will be 18+ or mature, most will be 15-16+ and again clearly labeled

~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Just because I write about sensitive topics doesn't mean I encourage anyone to go looking for these relationships or situations irl. If you or a loved one are suffering in an abusive/toxic relationship please leave and/or seek the appropriate help. If you or a loved one is suffering from an unhealthy drug addiction please seek the appropriate help. Talk to your loved ones or a support group from the information provided below:

Mental health, substance use, or suicidal crisis, please call or text '988'

Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233 or text SMART to 88788

Mental and/or substance use disorders referrals to local treatment facilities, support groups, and community-based organizations:

SAMHSA’s National Helpline, 1-800-662-HELP (4357)

Treatment Referral Routing Service), or TTY: 1-800-487-4889

Also visit the online treatment locator, or send your zip code via text message: 435748 (HELP4U) to find help near you.

[imaginationintowords]

Lost on You

Chapter 5

Peter Parker x Sister!Reader Steve Rogers x Reader Avengers x Reader; Hybrid Social Media AU

Series Masterlist

Summary: Y/N Parker is Peter’s older sister. She is ten years older than Peter, making her 26 years-old. She is also an Avenger, her powers are very similar to Wanda’s; telekinesis, mind reading, teleportation, and elemental bending. She has been an Avenger far longer than Peter, and like Peter her identity is kept a secret. As well as being an Avenger she works in the lab alongside Tony, she is a science genius. She has also been dating Steve Rogers for the past 3 years. Their relationship is as great as it can possibly be, that is until Steve does something that has Y/n questioning not only their entire relationship, but her place in the Avengers. It opens her eyes to how much of her life has revolved around Steve and work. Never really experiencing life like everyone else her age has.

Series tag list: @chaoticpete​​ @eliza5616​​ @supraveng​​​ @faithtrustandrobbiekay​​​ @inquisitor-selvala​​​ @dumbbitch11​​​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​​​ @jessyballet​​​ @reann-loves-sebstan​​​ @thelostallycat​​​ @castalette​​​ @lovely-geek​​​ @malfoyy123​​ @zombieninjadinostayssilent​​ @welovecaptainamericaass​​ @dontbetooobvious​​ @stop-drop-and-drumroll​

Permanent tag list[let me know if you want to be taken off]: @rosegolddivinity​​ @definitelynotafangirl​​ @1awesomeash​​ @princess-evans-addict​​ @geeksareunique​​ @24kbratz​

[regulusirius]

Emotions

Masterlist

Written for @bionic-buckyb‘s 8k angst writing challenge prompt #13

plot: She can feel everyone’s emotions and lets the entire team open up to her, but for some reason she cannot do the same. 

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

word count: about 2k

warning: angst, a bit of fluff, language 

prompt: “How are you doing?”

               “I feel like there might be more pressing matters right now.”

She was curled up on the sofa, every morning when Bucky walked into the spacious kitchen in the Avengers compound that is where he found her. Y/N was underneath a large pile of warm blankets, coffee in hand, during breakfast always choosing it sit alone. He watched as she wrapped her hands around the warm maroon mug, staring aimlessly at the television in front of her.

“Pancakes,” Sam’s question brought Bucky’s attention back to the breakfast his friend was making and away from Y/N.

“Oh, sure,” he looked up to see Steve walking into the kitchen, “morning,” he told his friend before once again looking down at his pancakes.

Steve sat down besides Bucky, grabbing a plate of pancakes from Sam for himself, to meet Bucky’s curious eyes that were glancing over to Y/N.

“You could just go talk to her Buck, I don’t think she bits,” Steve chuckled as Bucky’s eyes turned to him in a glare.

“Why do you think she sits by herself,” Bucky asked as Sam joined them.

“She doesn’t want to sit next to your mopey ass,” Sam snickered earning him a shove from Bucky, “I don’t know man; she’s new and probably isn’t comfortable around us yet.”

New could only be used lightly at this point. Y/N had joined the team over a year ago, but it seemed like she had only been on the team for a few weeks. After all this time, the rest of the Avengers hardly knew anything about her besides what was in her file, which was not very much. After Steve and Tony found her in an abandoned Hydra base, she tended to stay on her own; sure, she hung out with the rest of the team when necessary, but never really shared much.

“I don’t know, I feel like even I was a little bit more open than she’s been,” he glanced over to her once again.

“We can’t push her Buck; we don’t really know what she’s been through,” Steve looked to the former Winter Soldier and back towards Y/N, “she just needs more time.”

“I guess I just don’t want her to feel alone, it doesn’t do anyone any good.”

“Hey Y/N,” Sam shouted across the room, “you want to go spar?”

“Sure,” she smiled, “if you’re up for that,” walked past him towards the gym.

“Your empath powers can’t take me down and you know it,” he looked towards the two men after she had walked out of the room, “what he said no one wants to feel alone.”

Of course, things did not change, even though Sam thought he was helping the situation with his spontaneous training sessions and movie nights, Bucky continue to see Y/N helping out the entire team, but staying quiet herself. He noticed as she held Wanda’s hand on the anniversary of Pietro’s death, filling Wanda’s mind with joy and memories of the good times that her and Pietro had. He was drinking coffee in the kitchen when he noticed Y/N soothing Tony’s anxiety through the see through walls of the compound. She had even gotten around to caring for him after one of his many nightmares.

“Why do you do this,” he asked her once after his breathing began to regulate.

“What do you mean,” she looked up at him, dropping her hands from his.

“You wake up in the middle of the night to help me, why” Bucky looked up at her meeting her eyes.

“Well I’m not going to just sleep while I have the power to help you.”

 He smiled at her, “Well thanks again.”

“And like I say every time it’s not a problem,” she rubbed her tired eyes.

“Are you okay? You can’t keep taking care of all of and not yourself,” he looked towards Y/N, her black hair now obscuring her face.

“Now you’re not one to talk Mr. ‘I don’t think I’m worth all this,’” she smirked avoiding his glance.

“I’m being serious you know, you can talk to us, talk to me,” he sat up watching her rise from his bed moving towards the door.

She laughed avoiding his statement, “night Bucky.”

Y/N continued to avoid questions like those, but Bucky continued to ask them. He hoped that somehow he would be able to break the wall that Y/N had built around herself. Bucky got close, with the two turning, their late night run-ins into midnight snacks, and Bucky joining her for her early morning jogs. She began to open up ever so slightly to him over the next few months, but he feared all this progress would be forgotten when he walked into a standard mission briefing.

The team had their to the conference hall, to see Tony standing in front of the large screen, right away he recognized the building that was being shown. It was the same Hydra facility that the team had rescued Y/N from last year.

“Is that-,” Wanda wondered aloud before Tony cut her off.

“Yes,” Tony’s eyes met Y/N’s, “we have reason to believe that have started using this facility again kid. But, we got it covered; you don’t have to come-,”

“No,” Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, attempting to stop herself from shaking, “I want to come. I need to.”

“Are you sure,” Steve broke the silence in the room, “It’s probably going to bring back some not so great memories.”

“I’ll be fine,” her eyes staring at her lap for the remainder of the briefing, Bucky glancing over to her every few moments hoping that her eyes would met his, so he could somehow help her.

As soon as the meeting was over, Y/N quickly rushed out of the conference room, Bucky quick on her tail. He followed her onto the quinjet, finally catching up to her as she was viewing the mission plans. 

“How are you doing,” Y/N, looked up, her Y/E/C eyes meeting his blue ones.

“I feel like there might be more pressing matters right now,” she said quickly not meeting his glance and continued to view the layout of the facility they were going to infiltrate.

“Are you sure you-“

“Buck I said I’m fine okay,” she looked at his for a moment before moving towards to the armory to get her guns.

Of course, it was not okay, but she fought through it avoiding every punch and every bullet, until she caught in the corner of her eye someone sneaking up on Bucky. She quickly crossed the room pushing him with all her strength out of the way.

“Y/N what the hell,” Bucky looked down seeing Y/N gripping her right arm.

“What, someone has to look out of you,” she smirked through the pain gripping her arm tighter.

“Steve do you guys have this covered, I need to take Y/N back to the jet, she got shot,” Bucky said through the coms, picking her up in his arms.

“Yea Buck we are fine, just make sure she’s okay,” Bucky raced them through the cross fire, blocking bullets with his metal arm every few moments. As soon as they got onto the jet, he quickly placed Y/N onto the table assessing her arm.

“Bucky I’m fine, honestly this is not a big deal. Let me get back out there,” she began to pull her arm away from him.

He glared at her, “no you are not, you got shot you wouldn’t even be able to shoot a gun like this,” he began to bandage her arm.

“You and Steve get shot all the time and still fight.”

“Yea and we have the ability to heal faster than you. Which is why I don’t understand why you pushed me out of the way.”

“Can you super heal your brain,” she looked up at him, “because that’s where he was aiming and I wasn’t just going to just stand there.”

They sat in silence for some time, Bucky wrapping Y/N’s arm as she rolled her eyes at him until Bucky decided to speak up, “How’s your arm feeling, are you okay?”

“Can we just get back there Bucky, the team needs us,” she began to rise from the table.

“No Y/N you’re not going back out there. Now, how are you feeling?”

“Buck-“

“God Y/N,” Bucky interrupted her, “for someone who is able literally see someone’s emotions you aren’t really great at showing everyone else’s yours,” he shouted.

“Well maybe because I don’t want to,” Y/N screamed back, tears forming around her eyes, “maybe because I know that you are not supposed to get too close, that it’s easier when someone leaves or dies if you hardly knew them.”

He took a step back, breathing heavily, staring at her in front of him shocked by her words, “Y/N no one is leaving you and we’ll damn well make sure no who is going to die-“

“You can’t know that,” she interrupted him, wiping the tears quickly away from her face, “it always happens, everyone who I get close to always leaves.”

“Hey look at me,” he walked closer to her placing his hands onto her shoulders attempting to calm her down, “you can’t live your life running, afraid to let people in. You can’t live like that, I’ve tried and it doesn’t work out. There’s always someone out there who’s going to be looking for you,” he told her softly.

Y/N glanced up at him, “That’s different, you have Steve. You two and your ‘I’m with you till the end of the line’ bullshit. If I would disappear, no one would come looking, it’s easier like that anyway.”

“What are you talking about? You have a whole team of people here who would search the ends of the Earth for you. Everyone here cares so much about you,” he took a deep breath looking down into her grey eyes, “I care so much about you, and if you disappeared I don’t know what I’d do.”

Y/N shook her head, “You’re just trying to calm me down so you can go back and help the rest of the team out.”

Bucky placed his hand into hers, “Tell me what I’m feeling if you don’t believe me.”

She rolled her eyes concentrated on the sensation tingling through his fingers into hers and the aura around his tall muscular body, “You are worried, a bit angry and fearful. You are concerned and, um, feeling a strong sense of love for someone,” she avoided his glace as another tear dripped from her eye.

“Y/N I care so much about you, you need to see that,” he cupped her checks pulling her closer to him.

“I, I won’t be able to deal with losing someone else,” Y/N met his glistening eyes, searching for any sense that he could be lying.

“I promise you doll, I’m not going anywhere,” with that his held her closely in his arms and for the first time in a while it seemed that it be all right. 

Permanent Tag list

@pizzarollpatrol

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[thisisarcanereverie]

Your Dark MoonKnight fics are my oxygen right now. They are incredible! If your taking requests could i request a #14💔 or #15💔 with a dark Moonknight system?

Monster (DARK! Moon Knight x Fem! Reader)

A/N: So there will be a part 2 to this, I didn't use any of the prompt words but they will be in part 2.

Word Count: 3.8K

WARNINGS: Dark themes; mentions of abuse (domestic, physical, mental),Marc being an absolute wreck of a person, unrequited love, Layla being ooc, Marc being a little ooc, 18 + MINORS DNI.

Summary: Marc has loved you for ten years, ever since he met you, Layla's best friend. But can you truly love the monster beneath the skin?

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Marc has loved you for ten years. 

Not that you ever knew.

You were Layla’s best friend and from the first moment he saw you he felt this instant connection that he had never felt before. It was unnerving how attached he had grown to you by time a year came and went, but he never realized what he was feeling was love until the day he came to ask you for help. 

His mother had just died and he started to feel himself slipping, losing control and for once, he didn’t fight it. But he knew he couldn’t be Steven all the time, being Khonshu’s avatar was keeping him back from that and Steven had started growing suspicious. Leftovers from the night before being covered in mold and dust covering books that he had opened a few hours before. So he came to you, explained everything and asked that you housekeep for him while he was away. Now he knew it was a lot of information, you already knew about Khonshu and the suit, but everything else was new. When you went silent he felt this shame bubble inside him, it was familiar and dark as he already was berating himself for unloading all of this on you. He expected you to run away from him like the monster his mother always called him. Instead you took his war worn hand in yours and smiled at him and agreed, but that you had one condition.

That you became friends with Steven. 

It was in that moment he knew just how deep in love he was with you, like the shit you read about in Greek tragedies or Arabic poems. 

You met Steven eventually and became close. Marc watched like a fly on the wall as every laugh and smile towards him made Steven blush and smile. Every brush of your hand against his would send shivers down his spine. It was almost too good to be true. 

But then he couldn’t hide himself any longer from Steven, the lines keeping them separated were blurred beyond recognition. Steven became aware of everything, Layla, Khonshu, Marc, even the fact that he, himself, was an alter. But everything turned out right in the end. Sure they were still working things out but there was one thing they had in common. You. 

You still do housekeeping for them, three times a week. Marc pays you extra if you get groceries as well because often times than not both him and Steven forget that food is a necessity. Marc or Steven would often help you as you cleaned, although sometimes they would be counterproductive and create a mess while you were still there to keep you around for longer. Once the cleaning was done you tended to stick around, talk about your day and what you were planning this weekend. Even after the hell that had been Khonshu, divorcing Layla, and figuring himself out, you were still there. You would occasionally tell him a thing or two about Layla and what she had been getting into but he didn’t care. Layla was the past, he realized it was doomed from the start and there really had been no other way for it to turn out. 

Today was Thursday, one of the days you came in to clean and make sure he was alright. He had gotten up early and put a pot of coffee on. He knew Steven liked tea better but today was his day with you. He showered and sprayed that good cologne sparingly on his skin, messed his hair in a sexy (but not trying) way, and got his best sweats on along with his tightest shirt, (gotta show off the goods) was how he thought of it. By the time everything was done he sat on the couch and waited. You usually were either a few minutes early or on time exactly. So when ten minutes passed by the time you said you’d be there he was a worried mess. His thoughts raced and Steven’s incessant anxious ramblings didn’t help. 

“London can be dangerous, what if something happened?” 

“What if someone took her?”

“Maybe she didn’t look both ways before crossing the street and now she’s a bloody wreck.” 

Steven was good at coming up with different scenarios of horror, the one thought that shook Marc to his core however was What if she finally realized that I am a monster?

By twelve minutes he was getting his shoes on, no longer able to wait in the apartment wondering what happened to you as he opened the door and saw you. The sight of you immediately relieved the tension in his shoulders and that sinking gut feeling subsided. You smiled and waved as you made your way to him, seemingly nothing amiss. 

“Hey Marc,” You greeted as you slid past him, “sorry I’m late I ran into Layla on the way here and got distracted.” Marc caught a whiff of your hair as you passed him, the sweet and slightly floral scent of apple blossoms brought a smile to his face unknowingly. He wondered if your kiss was as sweet. He was brought back to earth as he heard the dull thud of the brown grocery bag you carried hit the counter. He closed his door and shook away the romantic thoughts that clouded his mind. 

“I was starting to get worried,” Marc said as he helped you unload the bag full of both vegan friendly and not so vegan friendly options and put them in their proper place. “What did Layla say?”

“Nothing much,” you responded as you put the brown paper bag away and began cleaning off the clutter that had gathered on the various counters, “she asked me if I wanted to go to the club with her Saturday.” 

“Oh?” Marc tried not to sound too caught off guard by this. He remembers the club scene, the blinding lights, horrible music, the stench of alcohol, and the crowded dance floor with strangers grinding on each other. It wasn’t a place for a lady like you. “Whatcha say?” 

“I told her sure,” You said, turning to face him with a smile, “I haven’t hung out with her in a while and who knows,” your smile turned mischievous, “I might get lucky.” you winked as you moved past Marc who had, at that point, become a statue. It took everything in him not to press you against the wall and confess right there in some sort of desperate plea to not go. 

Maybe you will get lucky, Marc thought as he turned to watch you put away the books Steven had left out the night before, humming an aria he’s sure Steven had heard before, maybe you will get very lucky indeed. 

Friday came and went and Saturday arrived. Marc had no trouble locating the club you and Layla would be attending. It’s one that he knew well, having been an occupant a time or two when he tried to fuck the feelings he had for you out. A brief time that had lead nowhere but to him looking for you. 

He entered the club and it was just as he remembered, blinding lights, alcohol, and people with no inhibitions left in them. He decided to go to the crowded bar, get himself a beer while he stalked the dance floor from afar, trying to spot you. 

He eventually did, he didn’t know why he expected to be able to think clearly when he spotted you. The multicolored lights reflecting off your hair, the dress that hugged you enough to leave him imagining, and the alcohol induced flush on your cheeks leaving your skin glowing. He knew that if he were to kiss your cheeks right now that they would be warm. His eyes traveled lower as his gaze fixated on the light sheen of sweat that covered you and made you glow. Marc had seen gods and goddesses, he’s seen beautiful places and horrible tragedies. But nothing could compare to you, you who was so full of life that it made him ache. His mind wondered if your body would glow like that in moonlight, how you would sound as he worshiped you like you deserved. Would you gasp or moan, what would they sound like as his war worn hands felt you, how would you feel? He already imagined kissing every curve and stretch mark that stretched across your skin like lightning, he had imagined it every night for almost ten years. 

When he saw you approaching the bar he turned away, back to his beer. He tried his best to blend in with the crowd, even started talking to the person next to him. 

“Marc?” 

Shit

Marc looked up from his beer and met every man's worst nightmare. 

His ex wife. 

“Layla,” He greeted, for all things considered the marriage ended amicably, even after finding out he was part of the reason her father was killed and that he had hid this whole other life from her. 

“You look well,” Layla pointed out, as she quickly flagged down one of the bartenders and asked for a cocktail of some kind, “I thought you hated clubs?”

“I was lonely,” He lied, “decided to try the club scene again.” 

“And?”

“I hate it.” Layla laughed as she called out your name, ushering you over to her. He could see your eyes widen ever so slightly as you saw him. 

“Marc?” 

“Yup.” 

“I thought you hated clubs?” you asked quizzically 

“Still do.” Marc watched you sip from the glass you had before setting it back down at the bar. 

“So why are you here?” 

“Decided to try it again and see if it was any better.” you were about to respond when Layla told you she was headed to the restroom, you offered to join her but she declined. You stood there for a fraction of a beat after Layla left before you both said something. 

“Do you wanna-” 

“Why don’t we-” 

You both laughed for a minute before Marc ushered you to go first. 

“Maybe you’ll like the club a little more once you dance.”

“Are you offering?” 

“A dance,” You said, reaching out your hand, “yes.” his half drank beer was long forgotten as he accepted your hand. It was soft against his own, and oddly a little cold, not that he minded. You led him to the floor as a new song began to play, not that he could really tell. Personal space became minimal as you both danced in time, his hands on your waist as your hips moved in time with the music. His hands never wandered although he desperately wanted them to, he was close enough to you that all he could hear, see, or smell was you. You invaded every sense, except for one, though he wasn’t sure if that was going to be a problem much longer as he drew you closer. He could feel the beating of your heart in time with him, and never for one moment did his gaze stray from you and the way you moved with him. Your eyes shimmering with the lights and a smile adorning your painted lips. It was all so tempting, you were tempting, you were the forbidden fruit hung on a low branch just begging to be eaten. All he had to do was bend down, that’s all, tilt his head and connect your lips with his own and he would finally know what temptation and hope tasted like. 

“I’m going to go look for Layla!” You yelled, though even still Marc could barely hear you over the music. He didn’t even comprehend what you had said, still in a trance, until he could no longer feel the warmth and beating of your chest against his, and his hands no longer held your waist. In a matter of seconds he went from being surrounded by you to being alone on the floor. Marc groaned in frustration as he exited the dance floor himself, ignoring the others who invited him in. He had no intention of dancing with anyone but you. 

He himself was about to enter the men’s restroom when he heard your voice carry into the hall. 

“Layla I swear it’s not like that.” 

“Maybe not for you,” he heard Layla say her voice quivering slightly, “but for Marc, most certainly.”  Marc finally understood what was happening, he was about to leave the hall had it not been your voice responding to her. 

“I don’t like Marc like that, he’s like a brother to me.” . 

“In Alabama maybe.” He could hear the disdain in Layla’s voice. “He loves you, he’s loved you since he first met you. I’ve seen it, he used to whisper your name in his sleep, and when push came to shove he came to you when he needed help…not me, not his wife.” Marc heard the clacking of heels and sink turning on, muffling them a bit. “I suspected it for years but I didn’t want to believe it, I- I didn’t want to believe that all those years were nothing to him but repaying a debt that he owed. Not when they were everything to me.” Marc felt a heavy, painful weight on his chest, one that he was familiar with. It was the same one he had every time he looked at Layla during those years they had spent together. Guilt. 

“Layla,” he heard your voice, soft and apologetic, “I’m not in love Marc.” 

“No, you’re not,” Layla responded, “But you’re intrigued by him at least. That is as clear as day, you like the fact that he’s dangerous. You’ve always liked men like that, the type with full lips to kiss you and a sturdy boot to kick you with.” 

Silence, nothing but Marc’s breathing and the bustling of the club going on to fill it. Not even the sink was running anymore and he was sure that any other woman still in there was keeping silent as well, wanting to see this play out. 

“You’re drunk Layla,” You say, your voice eerily calm, “you don’t mean it, let me call us a taxi and get you home.” 

“Oh I mean it,” Layla said, “I mean every word, I’ll get my own damn taxi homewrecker. Enjoy the club.”  Marc entered the men’s restroom after hearing Layla walk towards the door, and as he waited for a suitable time to pass before exiting thoughts clouded his mind. 

What did Layla mean by you’ve always been attracted to men like him? Layla should never have said that to you, who does she think she is? Layla liked him for the same reasons she claims you did. Are you crying, had Layla made you cry?  The thought of your tear stained face was enough to make him absolutely violent, how dare she make you cry. His nails bit into his palm painfully, he was sure if he unclenched them tiny droplets of crimson dotting along crescent moons would be what he would see decorating his palm. But he didn’t care, he’s never cared about what happens to himself. But to you, oh gods, did he care about you. 

Layla was going to pay for tonight, he promised himself, but right now he needs to comfort you. He needs to make sure you’re ok, because that is all that matters. Period. 

Marc exits the bathroom to already find you in the hall, sure enough he could see unshed tears sparkle in your eyes as you stare at the empty space in front of you. He noticed your body language, you were hugging yourself and seemed to tense every now and then. Marc recognizes that look, those mannerisms and stance, he did the same thing for years before the marines. He takes off his coat and approaches slowly, before softly calling your name. You turned to face him, sharp eyes studying briefly before looking away. 

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, unsure of what else to say. 

“You heard, then.” You say, “what Layla said.” 

“We don’t need to,” he replied, coming to lean on the wall next to you, “if you don’t want to.” He knows it’s alright if you don’t, he’ll find out one way or another. 

“It was a long time ago,” you said, “I was in this relationship and it wasn’t great. He only hit me once but once Layla saw the bruise on my cheek she almost killed him, she helped me leave him. She gave me a place to stay until I got back on my feet, I went to therapy, I honestly don’t know where I would be if it wasn’t for her.” the tear on your cheek was wiped away almost as fast as it appeared, “it took me years to get here, and her saying that I just-” a sob left you as you sank to the floor while Marc wasn’t far behind. He grabbed your hand and just held it, soon enough your head was leaning on his shoulder. You both didn’t say anything for a long time, just sat there and looked like individual train wrecks. 

After a few more minutes of silence you both hailed a taxi, Marc had insisted that you stayed at his for the night. That you shouldn’t be alone. When you got there neither of you bothered to turn on the lights, the only light filtering in through the window were street lights. But it didn’t matter, Marc lent you a pair of sweats to change into as well as a shirt. He let you have the bathroom first as he made his way to the kitchen to put on a pot of tea. He didn’t like the stuff but Steven certainly did, as well as you. Steven helped instruct him to make a proper cup of tea while you showered, by the time both teas were made you were out of the bathroom, your hair was still damp and hung around your bare face. His clothes suited you well, he thought, you really could be wearing a potato sack and still look like an angel sent from heaven to him. Marc handed you your cup before excusing himself to the bathroom, he took only ten minutes before he was out and dressed. You had already made a bed out of the couch. 

“You can take the bed sweetheart.” He said as he made his way over to you, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“This is your flat though,” you replied, “I don’t want to intrude.” 

“It’s no intrusion,” He said, “please, take the bed or else I’ll carry you there myself.” 

“I’d like to see you try Moon boy.” You dared, not thinking he would actually do it. A second passed before suddenly you were lifted from the couch and into Marc’s arms. A sharp yelp of surprise came from you as Marc chuckled lightly. He actually enjoyed your reaction far more than he thought he would. Your arms wound themselves around his neck as you held onto him for dear life. He carefully brought you to his bed and set you down gently onto the sheets. Tucking you in before you could protest. 

“Told ya,” He said, his mouth tilting to that side grin of his. 

“I guess you did,” you said breathlessly, eyes never leaving him. 

People are braver in the dark, they do things they never would in the light of day. They dare to lie, cheat, and steal. But they also dare to do wonderful things, like write and dance and sing. But they also dare to love, which is the most dangerous thing of all. 

Without realizing it his hands drifted to cradle your face gently, maybe it was how your eyes looked at that moment. So wide, holding so many unspoken words he knows you must be thinking. Or maybe it was your lips, opened slightly, inviting him to press his against them. Or perhaps, it was just you, everything about you. From every crooked toe on your feet to every stray hair on your head. 

Before he could stop himself he felt himself dip down and capture your lips with his own. God was it intoxicating. You tasted divine, you tasted like something so holy he could only imagine that this is what heaven was like. He could taste the apple chapstick on your lips, along with the mint of his mouthwash. His thumb brushed gently over your cheek as he felt you return his kiss. And just as soon as it had begun it stopped, he pulled himself away. And unsure of what else to say, he only said one thing. 

“Good night.” 

He left the bed and went to the couch where he stared at the ceiling, you must have not known what to say either as you didn’t get up or say anything else. 

Did he push it too far? Were you telling the truth when you said you were not in love with him? Was he reading everything wrong? Would it matter?

He didn’t know when he fell asleep, all he knows is when he woke up you were gone. There were no messages on his phone and you were gone, like he had dreamt last night up. The only reason that he knew he didn’t was that as he laid down on his bed he could still smell apple blossoms and the warmth your body emitted throughout the night lingered. Like smoke from a burnt out candle. 

The days passed by and he was in torment. If he focused enough he could still feel the warmth of your cheek in his hands, and the soft press of your lips. He could even smell fucking apple blossoms. It was torture to have had you so close and so far. Marc had gotten a taste of paradise and everything he had ever wanted and hoped for, only to rip it away from himself and scare you off. Even Steven was of no help, he was in agony too. He was there in the mirror when he kissed you, while if Marc focused he could still feel you; Steven could not. To him it was he had been kissed by a ghost, a wisp of something you could never quite grasp. 

In between the two men moping they slept, they had thought about sending you a message but didn’t. You were radio silent as well, but he didn’t blame you. 

It wasn’t until Tuesday, the day that you usually came to clean did he hear from you again. The London rain had been pouring and Marc had fallen asleep, when he woke up half the day had gone by and your number was blowing up his phone. He immediately answered, wanting to hear your voice, 

“Marc?”  Your voice was trembling, something was wrong. 

“What happened? Are you ok?” “It’s Layla-” you started, “Can I come over?”

[moonshineandclearskies]

Hi please does anyone know the name of the bucky x reader fic where theyre on a mission and like theres a djinn? And bucky takes a knife and kills himself to escape the djinn’s fantasy?

And it ends with the reader saying that if he jumps off the building (because he believes he’s still in one of the djinns fantasies)she says she’ll jump with him?

And it ends a little fluffy???

The author said an episode of supernatural inspired them?

Im sorry if im bothering you😓😓

[livinginmyownhead]

Angsty Steve is a Big Mood

Be like Paris and follow me to see more

[moonvis]

During Civil War

part 1 | Berlin

Ship: Peter Parker x reader

(dad!Steve Rogers and daughter!reader)

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: angst

Masterlist in bio! 

part 2 coming soon...

Summary: Secretly being the daughter of Captain America, you join the fight in Berlin. That’s where you learn your boyfriend is Spiderman, the hard way of course. 

Note: This is just an idea I’ve had for some time now, hope you enjoy <3 There will be a part 2!!

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Fighting lessons with Natasha and exercises with your farther on how to use a shield properly, have made you into a great soon to be hero. Being the daughter of Captain America bring a lot of adventures and fun, but also have a bad side. You have to lie. You go to school, have friends and your boyfriend Peter Parker whom you trust with all your heart, but you have to lie. Lie about who you truly are because it’s to dangerous to tell everyone you’re the daughter of Captain America himself. On the other hand, you want to keep Peter from danger of course, while you don’t even know he is Spiderman.

 Friday, at school

You and Peter walked to your lockers together, having no clue how your relationship would drastically change in less than 48 hours.

“So, what you up to this weekend Pete?” You asked to simply make conversation.

“I’m actually going away on a small vacation” Peter smiled, but suddenly sounded kind of nervous. “You see, May wanted to go to this place. I don’t remember where exactly.”

“Why are you acting like that?” You asked, knowing him to well.

“Oh, what do you mean?” Peter asked back pretending like nothing.

“Ok? It doesn’t matter, anyways-” You cleared your throat “-I’m actually going away to. Heading to Berlin to meet my uncle”.

Peter’s eyes shot up. Berlin? That’s where he’s going. “Cool, guess we won’t see each other until Monday then?”

Peter sighed, while you nodded. He gave you a kiss on your forehead, before you both went your separate ways. It was time to head for Berlin, and fight alongside your father and half of the Avengers.

 Berlin, at the airport

Captain America, Falcon, Ant-man, Wanda, Hawkeye, Bucky: your side. One goal: Beat the other’s ass and get to the jet. The news about the airport being evacuated by Stark lead to your father’s next order: “Suit up everyone”.

Soon, staying behind, you watched your father run towards a helicopter and got stopped by Iron Man and War Machine entering the scene. Suddenly Black Panther and Black Widow entered. It was impossible to hear what they all were saying to each other until you hear Tony shouting “Underoos!”

You watched Spiderman, the hero of your city entering the area, stealing your fathers shield and land perfectly. After some more chatting, Hawkeye cut the spiderwebs from your fathers’ hands and Ant-man appeared with his shield. That was your cue to enter the scene. Holding tight to your shield you run and stand next to your father.

“I see you brought your own kid into this” Tony said and gave a command to Spiderman “Underoos you got the kid!”

Steve reacted and gave you the same message “Y/n take down the spider!”

And the fight was on.

You ran towards Spiderman and threw your shield at him. He fell to the ground with a thud but was quick back on his feet. You tried to run towards him, but he suddenly shot a web at your shield and dragged you across the ground. You let out a groan and felt light pain appear. “Sorry but I have to impress Mr Stark” Spiderman said with his so familiar voice, before shooting webs at your hands and feet so you were now stuck to the ground. Then he left you to get Bucky and Falcon.

“Fuck this shit” you said and tried to get out of the webs.

“You ok Y/n?” You could hear through the ear speaker you got before the fight started.

“I’m ok dad, just got in a little mess”

 After finally getting free form the sticky webs, a fire truck was thrown towards War Machine. You soon saw your side of the team running towards the jet. “Come on!” Captain America shouted as all of you ran towards it together. Suddenly Vision stopped you all.

“Captain Rogers, I know you believe what you’re doing is right, but for the collective good, you must surrender now.” Vision explained while flying between your side and Iron Man’s side.

With everyone line up on each side, you asked “What do we do now dad?”

“We fight.” You got in response and the battle began.

 You noticed your father battling Spiderman, with Captain America winning their part. When your father ran for his next target you stepped in front of Spiderman.

“Not nice of you to leave a girl all webbed up you know” You hissed at Spiderman, still pissed he left you like that. “I know you need to impress Tony, but I have a father to impress”

Spiderman just responded with a “sorry” before shooting a web at you. You knew he would go for your shield, so you dodged. You quickly threw your shield at his legs, so he fell backwards.

“Ouch” Spiderman groaned “You good with that shield you know”

“Yeah I know” You said while smiling at him.

When you turned and began to run towards the jet, you could hear your father through the ear peace. “Y/n it’s important you get to the jet. Please hurry.”

“On my way, don’t worry dad” You assured him, but something went wrong.

Spiderman had already got back up on his feet and shot a web at your leg. Without being prepared, he swung you fast across himself and into a wall. He didn’t mean to do it that harshly, and quickly panicked when you landed on the ground. You let out something close to a scream, which gave you your fathers full attention.

“Y/n? Y/N? Hello?” Steve tried, worry filling his chest. “Y/n do you copy?”

Spiderman ran to your side to see if you were at least a little ok, but you were bleeding. This was definitely not what Mr Stark had in mind when telling Peter to take you down.

Falcon heard everything through his ear peace. “I’m going to find her Cap; you get to the jet!”

Steve tried to calm his worry and let out a sigh. “Ok, just please get her out of there for me.”

 Meanwhile Spiderman didn’t know what to do, so his first instinct was to check your heartbeat. With that in order, he decided to rip off your mask. Then he did. The second he saw your bleeding, unconscious face, he took a step back in panic. He just injured his own girlfriend without knowing it!

He shook the shock and fell right down on his knees beside you. He grabbed your upper body in fear, with his heartbeat running a marathon. Even a few tears escaped his eyes.

“Y/n? Y/N! Hey, I’m sorry! Please open your eyes! I didn’t mean to do this!” Peter asked you terrified.

While letting out his frustration, Cap tried not to be distracted. He could hear everything through your ear peace. His heart was beating fast and he wanted to find you, but him and Bucky had to get inside the jet and leave.

Falcon landed next to Peter and got down beside you. “She needs medical assistance! I need to take her with me.”

“No please. I need to take care of her. Mr Stark won’t let them take her, please just let me help her.” Peter begged.

Falcon had to get out of there and stood up. “Take good care of her, or Captain America will have to deal with you” He said before flying off.

Peter and you were left by yourself, but he had to get you help soon.  

 Cap and Bucky on the jet

“What’s going to happen to your friends? Y/n?” Bucky asked carefully.

“Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it.” Steve respond with a sigh, and with you in mind of course.

To be continued…

________________________________________________________________

Part 2

ASK to be added to either main taglist or just for this series :))

[galaxy-parker]

i’m feeling rough, i’m feeling raw in the prime of my life

[mysttixs]

With Just an Embrace

Iron Dad Fanfic : Chapter 3 - Trauma

   She buried her head deep into his neck. He really did know how to freshen up. The light from their open bedroom windows made him look like a god.

         “Mmm” Pepper inhaled, “That’s my Tony” she sniffed him once again, the smell of his cologne made her knees weak.

   He squeezed her tightly before pulling her away. “I would like to soberly apologize”

              “I've been an ass. I shouldn't be an ass to you, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for shutting down, I’m sorry for yelling at you, I’m sorry for almost killing you….again.”

   “I put it on the list.” She smiled, her near-death encounters were getting a little too high.

   “I wasn’t supportive. I would try and blame it on my childhood, and while I think that is a part of it, the rest is just me. Being an ass. I was scared--am scared. But, I want to try. For you, and for my...little….. demon spawn.”

“Let’s start over.” She pulled his hands over her hips, smelling him again. “Anthony Stark, I’m pregnant.” Her voice was low and seductive.

“Oh yeah?” He smiled, kissing her neck.

Pepper grabbed his shirt collar, pushing him in the direction of the bed.

Pepper woke up tangled in the thin white sheets. Tony’s spot in the bed void of a body. She got up, throwing her legs over the edge looking down. It was then she noticed something...she was showing. Not enough for someone else to notice, but she could see it. The tiniest belly bump.    

“Tony?” she called out, entering the bathroom, It was empty. She wondering into the halls outside her room, scanning for her love. After looking, she knew there was only one more place he could be. She descended down the spiral stairs to his lab. Distant music played on an old record player. Tony was always a man of the past and future. As she turned the corner, she spotted him trying on a suit, dancing to the song. It was always good to see Tony working in a healthy way, Pepper couldn't help but laugh a little bit at his dancing.

He turned around, seeing her, “Hey mama.” He smiled, stepping down from the suit’s stand, landing on the floor with a metallic clink. Machinery whirred as he walked over to her. It wasn't finished, he lacked a chest and face piece, the silver coated wires exposed. He shimmied down, in sync with the energetic song. He grabbed Pepper’s hands, swinging them back and forth. She smiled and laughed timidly, not yet giving in to the music. Tony raised her arm into the air, spinning her flawlessly. Finally, Pepper gave in, dancing with the stupid man in front of her. He was such a dork. She loved it.  

“I love you Peps.”  He whispered, dipping her body downwards into a kiss.

They spent the rest of the day in that lab, dancing and talking. It was one of those days where you just spilled and spilled, knowing that whatever you said would be understood and heard. One of those conversations that you never want to end. Tony had instructed Jarvis to order some food, revealing Pepper’s crazy cravings. Pickles and a banana split was one of her favorites.

   “How can you eat that?” He sarcastically asked, taking a bite of his own desert.

   “It's repulsive….but so delicious.” Her head rested on his lap, the rest of her sprawled out all over the couch.  

   “You disgust me.” He said as she offered him a bite.

   “Whaat? Haha, try it!”  

   “I’d rather shove it up my ass.”

   “Tony!” Pepper protested, laughing as she smashed the melting ice cream in his mouth.

He gagged, coughing as he swallowed the odd dessert.

   “Awg, Pepper, that's nasty.” He wiped at the vanilla, dabbing his face with a napkin.

The soft lights switched to a terrifying red, the color flickering throughout the room.

   “What the-” Pepper started

   “Shit.” He muttered, launching up from his seat on the couch, leaving Pepper’s head slumped down. She sat up, confused and scared.

   “J.A.R.V.I.S,  what’s goin’ on?”

   “Sir, It seems there is an alert from S.H.I.E.L.D, they are requesting Ironman at this moment.”

   “W-what’s happening, Tony?” Pepper watched him march over to his newest suit, M62. The well-known appearance of ironman attached itself to him, piece by piece assembling the hero. Before closing the headpiece, he walked over to his love.

   “I’ll be back.”

   “Alive?” Her eyes looked all around his face as if to remember it like it was her last time glancing at it.

   “I’ve survived many things. I’ll be sure to add it to my list.” He kissed her. A longer kiss than usual. Pepper had a love-hate relationship with goodbye kisses. She loved them, so passionate and comforting, but hated them for going away. Her heart broke a little when the mask closed, and she watched him fly away, as it did every time she watched him leave.

   “....Jarvis?”

   “Yes, Ms. Potts?”

   “Keep me updated on Tony’s condition in suit M62.”

   “Sure, Ms. Potts. Mr.Stark’s condition is currently at 170bpm and no damages.”

   “Yeah...let’s hope it stays that way. What time is it?”

   “It is currently 2:43 am.”

Pepper winced at the time, how could she have stayed up so late? She loses track of time when Tony gets like that. Open and calm. Normally it takes a screaming fit just to get something out of him. But very rarely, she was able to get him like that.

[writings-of-bored-gal]

Warmth

Steve x Reader x Bucky

Content: Angst

Word Count: 1,457

Summary: She’d found happiness with Steve, but Bucky can’t help but wish that she was still his.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in so long, life has been very hectic - I’m hoping that this makes up for it! I’m still very much taking requests and I’ll be posting a 250 followers celebrations with the opportunity for some song based requests so look out for that soon! Love you guys so much and thanks for ready. As always, tag lists, requests and asks are open- Abby x

Masterlist

_______________

The rain poured outside. It bounced off the windows, making the pitter-patter sound that she loved so much. Steve had meant to be going on a mission that day, but the conditions were so bad that they’d cancelled, which meant she had him all to herself. They had raided the cupboards of the compound to find the baking supplies and settled on making gingerbread cookies to pass the time, meaning that half of the building smelled of cinnamon and ginger.

She was wrapped up in one of Steve’s hoodies, the light blue sleeves passing her fingertips so that she could feel the soft insides. She loved it when it was like this, just the two of them in their own bubble. She lost herself in the bliss of the moment, letting her reality become her fantasy, until Steve came up behind her, his hands making their way around her waist to meet at the front so that his strong arms could pull her closer to him.

“Ready to roll?” He grinned, nodding his head in the direction of the rolling pin. She nodded but ignored the task, instead turning in his arms to face him.

He hadn’t shaved that morning, so some dark blonde stubble shadowed his ever-perfect jawline. His blue eyes were bright as he looked at her, but he couldn’t hide the dark circles under his eyes from the fatigue that came with the constant missions recently. His hair was still damp from his shower and half of her wanted to run her fingers through it to comfort him.

Instead, she lifted her flour covered fingers and lightly touched the tip of his nose leaving a small circle of the white powder on the end. His mouth opened in a surprise laugh as he lifted her up off of her feet and onto the kitchen counter where he dipped his own finger in the flour and did the same back to her.

She leant forward and kissed his nose gently. Steve tipped his head up so that her lips met his. His kisses were warm and sweet and tasted like sugar. The sound of the rain made her appreciate just how warm he was, how wonderful being in his arms was. She was convinced that even in the middle of a snow storm, Steve’s lips would warm her to her core.

They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. She opened her eyes and turned to see a flash of a metal arm that she knew all too well. Steve sighed, his face still close to hers so that she felt it on her cheek.

“I should go talk to him.” He whispered.

“No,” she lifted her hand to his cheek and he looked up and into her eyes. “I’ll go. I think it needs to be me.” Steve stared at her for a moment, searching for something to tell him that she wasn’t going to be alright with this, but she held his gaze with determination. After another moment of silence, his head leant forward to hers.

“Okay.” He murmured. She kissed him softly and shuffled off of the counter, following the sound of Bucky’s footsteps down the hall.

She and Bucky had first gotten together two years before. He’d been in Central Park, watching the ice skating rink from the side. She’d been skating with her friend, just like they did every year, and noticed him on the side. She didn’t recognise him, but that wasn’t uncommon in a city with so many tourists. There was something about his steely blue gaze captured her attention and they’d ended up spending the night together. When she’d woken up the next morning in his bed, she’d tried to escape without being noticed, but was cornered in the kitchen by none other than Steve Rogers himself, who sweetly poured her coffee and told her to try and stick it out with Bucky because he was a good guy.

So she did. She stuck it out with him for another year. She wasn’t sure if the ever really loved each other. When they were together it was easy, sure, but it didn’t feel like love to her.

And yet every morning she woke up to a fresh coffee already on the counter whilst Steve sat with his sparkling eyes and quiet, husky laugh first thing in the morning. Bucky tended to sleep in after staying late, but Steve was there…He always seemed to be there for her.

Eventually her and Bucky had gotten into an argument and broken up. When she wasn’t in the compound the next morning, Steve had gotten so worried that he went all the way across town to her apartment to check up on her. It was more thoughtful than anything Bucky had done for her in their entire relationship.

That’s when she realised why she’d actually stayed with Bucky in the first place. It wasn’t for Bucky. Sure the sex was great, but sex wasn’t good enough to hold onto her for an entire year. Steve was the face she loved to wake up to in the morning, and as much as it pained him to say it, she was his.

When she kissed his lips that morning, he tasted of warm coffee.

Bucky had never tasted warm like Steve had. In the morning his lips were cool and tasted of mint that would send goosebumps up her back and neck. She loved Bucky at the time, at least she thought that she did, but it’s hard to go back into the cold when it’s so warm inside.

It was colder in the rest of the compound than in the kitchen, but it was empty so she wasn’t overly surprised. She wandered around the hallways searching for him. His footsteps had faded away, but eventually she heard the thumping of a punching bag.

Bucky saw her coming through the glass doors. He tried to ignore her but she came in, standing and waiting for him to stop. She had the patience of a saint , and yet he’d broken her before. He didn’t mean to make her feel as though she wasn’t enough for him, like she couldn’t help him anymore. He wanted to worship her the way in which she deserved but something inside of him stopped her.

When she showed back up again months later, her hand laced in Steve’s, his heart stopped. He wanted to be happy for them. He saw that they worked together better than they’d ever worked, but that only made him hurt more. If he couldn’t make it work with her, then would he ever be able to make it work with anyone?

He carried on punching for a couple more minutes, trying to stall the confrontation he knew was waiting for him, but it didn’t help. He gave up and bought his eyes up to hers. There was a pleading behind them he couldn’t ignore.

“James-“ She began, “Bucky, I’m sorry. We didn’t know anyone was around otherwise we wouldn’t have-“

“You shouldn’t have to.” He said. “It’s not your fault, Y/N.”

She nodded. He never saw it as her fault. Not once. And he never complained about their relationship. They tried not to display their affection in front of him, Steve especially. But Bucky saw their playful glances, the way her knee would knock against his under the table to make her smile.

“It won’t be for much longer.” She said.

Bucky cocked his eyebrow upwards. She remembered when that would make her heart skip a beat. “Why’s that?” He asked.

“Well,” She shook her head. “Steve and I have found an apartment in Brooklyn. We’ll be moving in next month.” She watched as he froze. He was trying to hide it.

His head was spinning. Moving out? Sure, it pained him to watch the tow of them, but this meant he would see less of her. She wouldn’t be near him, and that was far worse. Bucky knew she wasn’t his anymore, he reminded himself more times in a day than he could count, and yet when she’d be in the kitchen in a hoodie that was too big and her hair a mess making breakfast, he saw home. And she was leaving. With Steve.

“Congratulations.” He murmured. She went to reply, but he was already past her, bolting down the hallway to his room and locking the door behind him.

She wanted to breakdown and cry. What a mess she had made. And yet Steve was upstairs blissfully unaware that she had broken his best friend’s heart once again. She found herself following the scent of gingerbread, taking the coward’s way out into her love’s arms once more.