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magicalencanto · 2 years

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⊹₊ ⋆ ❝ Frozen ❞

✎ ⁞ Camilo Madrigal x Female! Reader with ice powers!

✎ ⁞ requested by @beamingbeaming

✎ ⁞ warnings: angst

✎ ⁞ date: 24.12.2021

❝ It's so cold here... ❞

You whole body was shivering violently, teeth softly hitting against each other, as you held your tightly to your chest. Those chest pains were the worst. It only hurts more and more, restricting your breathing and causing your heart to beat painfully. Besides, at this point you weren't able to move from your fetus position. All you could do now is to wait for death to knock on your door and take you away...

❝ I'm so cold... ❞

It was so warm that day. The sun was shining brightly, no cloud was on the sky and the wind was softly blowing here and there. It was just perfect. Maybe that's why you and Camilo decided to go on a date in your "secret spot".

It was deep into the forest, in a small clearing with a pond in the middle. You both found this spot on your first date and since that day, you regularly meet there. It was so breathtaking and a place where you could find true peace. An escape from all your troubles. A safe heaven.

But nothing perfect can last forever.

❝ Why don't you want to do it? ❞ Asked Camilo, blocking your path. You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. You both were about to go back to the village and eat dinner with his family.

❝ Because, Milo, I don't want to hurt anyone. ❞

❝ Are you sure about that? ❞ Your boyfriend raised an eyebrow, also crossing his arms over his chest.

❝ What does that suppose to mean? ❞ You felt slightly offended and so the air around you became a little colder than usual.

❝ What I said. Admit that you're just a sore loser and are afraid to compete against Isabela. ❞ He lifted his chin a little higher, putting his hands on his hips.

❝ That's not true! ❞ You immediately protested, setting your jaw tighter. The temperature around began to lower, but neither of you were paying attention to that. You also ignored how playful argument turned into viscous fight and where this whole thing was going to.

❝ Yeah, it is! ❞

Snowflakes began to fall around you.

❝ No it isn't! ❞

Water stared to freeze.

❝ No it isn't! ❞ Camilo turned into you and mocked you. You gritted your teeth, feeling annoyed like never before. Was this so hard to understand? Why couldn't he get that you were just trying to protect everyone? Didn't he realized that your powers could actually kill someone?

Instead of answering, you opted to cover you face with you hands and take a few deep breaths, desperately trying to calm yourself. Mist formed from your mouth and nose when you were breathing out and a frost began to form under your feet.

❝ That's what I thought, you're just a sore loser. At first, you kept your powers secret from me and my family and now you afraid to face a little competition against my prima. ❞ You heard Camilo huff and his footsteps moving further from you. Yet you still kept your face covered from the world, no ready to face it again. Your shoulders started to shake as you took a shaky breath in. You didn't want to cry. No, you couldn't cry...

When you were sure that Camilo was gone, you fell on your knees, shaking even more. You felt so exposed and hurt by what your gift boyfriend had said. How could he?! After all you shared with him?! Your insecurities and deepest fears?! That's what you get?!?

You gritted your teeth harder, gripping your face with your hands as the frost from under your body began to spread around with a fast speed, coating everything in a thin layer of ice. On top of that, snow started to fall harder around you, slowly turning everything white. At this point, the pond froze into a solid ice and wind was blowing harshly around you.

And in the middle of that disaster, was poor you, desperately trying to calm yourself. But your poor heart was fragile, like made out of ice...

❝ Aaaaaaa! ❞ You yelled loudly, releasing thousands of ice shards around you. You were so hurt, so heartbroken, you just couldn't keep it inside of you and needed to let the pain out.

Most of the shards landed some distance away from you, but one piece, a small one, springed back to you after hitting a hard and big rock. And since you were sitting up, your chest was exposed to it...

❝ Ack!- ❞ You gasped loudly, suddenly feeling sharp pain in your chest. Everything stopped and went quiet, as you fell forward, gripping the front of your shirt, just above your heart, trying to catch your breath.

It hurts so bad but most of all, why were you feeling cold?

Since that day, everything went downhill. When you somehow had managed to pick yourself up and walk back home, unknowingly you had brought the winter with you.

It had started innocently, only with a lower temperature, that began to turn lower and lower everyday. Then the snow appeared, soft snowflakes landing here and there. Then it began to intensifie every day, until thick layer of snow laid on every surface of Encanto. Frost appeared shortly after the first snow fell, appearing on every window and wall. The wind slowly began to pick up day after day, until it was so strong, no one could really do anything about it. To sum it up, a harsh winter fell upon the once sunny city of Encanto.

But as quickly as villagers were to judge your parents about not keeping their child at bay, even quicker they took back their words when they found out, that the true cause of this harsh winter was your declining health.

Day or two after fight with your boyfriend, you felt fine, expect some chest pains here and there.

Day three, four and five, you felt weaker and you felt cold in your hands and feet.

On day six, you hand noticed that streaks of your hair began to turn white. Of course, you tired to hide it from you parents and you succeed but the pain in your chest only increased and your legs and arms began to feel cold. Like they were freezing...

During day seven and eight, you felt yourself breaking out into cold sweat, even when you felt extremely cold. In conclusion, you had a cold. Most of your hair in the back of your head turned white and you could no longer stay still, because you couldn't stop shivering.

During midday on day nine, you passed out. Your parents found you on the floor in the kitchen, and were terrified to discover all the damage done to your body. Without hesitation, you dad was sent to Casita Madrigal for Julieta. In the meantime, your mother took you to the sofa in the living room and laid you on top of it, softly caressing your freezing body. When your father was back, with Julieta running behind him with a basket in her hands, they woke you up, and tried to give you some of Julietas dishes. Grudgingly, you did so, but much to your parents and Julietas expectations, it didn't work.

On day ten, it was official. You were deathly sick and no one could stop it. During last night, half of your hair turned white and although your cold disappeared, now your temperature was below the ones that human should have. After you were placed in your bedroom and tucked under many covers, Julieta tried a few more time to heal you with her magical snacks. But this attempts were proven to be fruitless. You were still dying, slowly being killed by your own gift.

The next day, whole Encanto began to pray for you to get better. Your parents were the ones who pray the hardest. They felt so useless, so helpless. They were basically forced to watch their child die before their own eyes. And they could do nothing about it. Abuela hearing this, felt her own heart break, because she couldn't imagine watching her own child die before her eyes. So with fierce determination, she began to think. Think how to help you, your family and Encanto. Behind her stood her whole family, also thinking about the solutions.

But no one thought harder than Camilo himself. The cause of the whole problem, the very thing that had caused you this... sickness. And honestly, this terrified him more than he would ever thought. Never before has his teasing, hurt someone so much. Now thinking about this in his room, Camilo realized that he accidentally took his frustration in you. That day wasn't his good day. For an unknown reason to him, everything went wrong and this negative emotions build up on him, until he just had to let them out. And unfortunately, you were his poor victim. His first girlfriend, love of his life, his Vida.

Of course, day after the whole argument took place, he tried to think of a ways to apologize to you. At first, he thought that it would be the best for you to cool off, before he would go to you and apologize. Then, after three days passed, he tried to approach you, but something always seemed to stop him. Either it would be people or his chores. Then, he couldn't see you, because harsh winter fell upon the whole Encanto and shortly after, you were declared sick.

Hearing this news, his heart broke into a million pieces. His...you were...no! No! You couldn't be! You-just-just couldn't be sick! Camillo really tried to be in denial, but he had to face the hard reality of his actions. You were dying, because of him.

And believe me, that hit him harder than anything before. Because broken ice heart can't be fixed so easily.

At this point, you couldn't feel anything. You turned apathetic to the world around you, as your body was turning into an ice. You just keep staring blankly ahead of you, strands of your pure, white hair covering your face and sometimes blocking your vision.

Your whole room was frozen, with the little snowflakes lazily floating around. The only thing that wasn't solid was the thin blanket around you and your clothes. Some of the frost started to form on your cheeks, slowly spreading over you head.

But you didn't care. Your chest felt like it was hollow and your emotions were gone. While looking at you, one may think that you were already dead. And you kind of were.

❝ I just want everything to stop... ❞ You let out a little breath, numbly watching the mist forming. You were so tired and so, so cold...

❝ M-mi Vida? ❞ You barely heard a very familiar voice behind you, as it was barely a whisper. Even if you wanted to see who it was, you had no strength left in you to turn around.

❝ Dios Mio! ❞ The person rushed over, kneeling before you and taking your cold cheeks in their hands. Your vision was failing you, so you could only see a blurry images but you could recognize that curls everywhere.

❝ Camilo... ❞ You let out a breathy whisper, barely heard. Although he was the reason you were like this, at your deathbed, you were happy to be with someone. Even if it was someone who had broke your heart into a million of pieces.

❝ I'm here, mi Vida. I'm here! ❞ Camilo whispered shakily, feeling tears gathering in his usually kind eyes. You were so cold. Like an ice you used to create. The boy couldn't believe that the person before him was the same girl he saw only a few days ago. The once lively and girl surrounded by colors, was now a shell of a person she once used to be. Her hair turned pure white and her skin looked deathly pale. Her eyes too, lost their shine in them, turning so dull. Now, cradling her cold cheeks did he got another heartbreak. You were slipping away from him. Fast. And he was absolutely hopeless. Just like everyone.

Without another world, Camilo gathered you in his arms, not paying attention to the prickling cold on his skin. He began to weep in your hair, holding you tightly to his chest. His curls covered his eyes, as he closed them tightly.

But you didn't felt that. You couldn't feel that. You were far to gone at this point. You had lost your vision, your touch and then the rest of your senses. You were ready to go...

❝ ...I love you. ❞ Camilo whispered to you, burying his head in the crown of your head.

And then, you felt warmth.

The wind completely stopped and so did the snow. Frost began to melt and a big sweeps of snow began to travel towards the sky. Grey and thick clouds began to disappear and the first ray of sun began to slip between.

Villagers, gathered in the church, quickly noticed the change and rushed outside to see what was happening.

Before their own eyes, the winter disappeared! The temperature was steadily rising and there was no more snow! The winter was gone!

Although happy, your parents rushed towards their house, worried sick for their child. Maybe the winter was gone because you were...? No! They couldn't think even think about it!

Still running, they arrived to their home and threw the door to your room open, prepared for the worst. Only to freeze in their track, when they saw their precious baby girl in the arms of her boyfriend, alive.

Your face was hidden in his chest, but they could see your white hair and your back moving up and down. Camilo was hugging you tightly to his chest, whispering lovingly in your ear and caressing your hair softly.

Your mother felt tears falling down her cheeks as she hugged her husband tightly, crying softly. He too shed silent tears as he hugged her back, not taking his eyes off of you.

In the end, love did conquered it all.

#camilo madrigal x reader #camilo madrigal imagines #camilo madrigal headcanons #camilo x reader #camilo madrigal #camilo encanto #encanto camilo #encanto x reader #encanto headcanons #encanto imagines #encanto #x reader #imagines #headcanons #fem reader #female reader #magicalencanto✨

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embrassemoi · 2 years

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A Gentle Loving

Peter’s love is nothing but gentle.

PAIRING: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

CONTENT: Andrew Garfields’s Spider-Man, fluffy :’)

NOTES: I wanted to put out something quick! This is based off of the ending to ‘I’ll Crawl Home to Her’

What was Peter’s love if not gentle?

A man subjected to so much violence, loss and death, it was a wonder how he managed to preserve so much love that had yet to be expressed to its fullest capacity. It was what made him so gentle. So tender.

She felt it with every soft caress, warm hugs, shy gaze — his hands wrapped around her waist, his lips on hers, their bodies intertwined. It was present in the stillest of moments when the mist burnt off into the morning sun or clouds passing over the buzzing city. Every subtle movement, every action, Peter put her needs above his.

Gentle.

Currently pressed together on their small couch, Peter’s arms wrapped around her protectively, chin resting on her head as his spider senses clung to her tightly, refusing to let her go. But she paid no mind and soaked it in because this — their love — was never guaranteed tomorrow.

But for now, she couldn’t help but pretend it did.

Surrounded by her thoughts, persistent, unrelenting — muddled with Peter’s soft heartbeat lulling encasing her, she turned to look up at him. However, his face shifted, frowning when she attempted to pull away only to relax once more as her hands cupped his face; brushing over the soft skin and running over the little scars that formed a roadmap of past stories.

A soft flush crept up his neck and cheeks along with the soft smile tugging at his mouth. Peter craned his neck forwards, brows quickly furrowing when he didn’t receive the kiss he expected.

Soft giggles erupted from her at his reaction, causing her head to fling backwards while Peter huffed playfully, moving to nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck and smiled wider when she became a mess in his arms.

Once the laughter had dwindled, she kissed the tip of his nose, hands shooting up to his hair to fiddle with the stray strands. Peter mimicked her previous actions, raising to cradle her face and tilting her head up. The calloused pad of his thumb rubbed over the skin as he unconsciously leaned forward, pulling her closer — eager to be as close as possible. He absorbed and bathed in every moment and heated touch while letting his brown eyes study her: admiring, falling, catching.

And his gentleness was the only thing she could have ever known.

They say the butterflies that swarm your stomach leaves after the honeymoon stage. But with Peter, they might land, rest for a while, but their wings always twitch and flutter and brush along your stomach with the simplest of actions.

Peter’s head shook, a small habit he had before bringing his forehead to rest against hers. There was something unreadable that swam in his eyes, something soft and gentle and she liked to think that maybe the temporary end to Peter’s storm resided in her arms.

A faint grin replaced his faux annoyance as he mumbled for more. Another kiss. And then another. And maybe just one more after that.

Gentle.

In a world filled with wonders, one heart was all she needed, to hold and cradle and nurture. To love and be loved by. Picking Peter to love was the easiest choice a person could make — the very embodiment of home.

There was no definite answer to describe love, yet it was still contained in one word. But it was far from just experiencing one emotion. Peter’s love culminated into a peak where the delicate threads of his love had woven together to form a blanket, covering her with warmth and vigour and shielded from any cold.

Neither spoke. There was a greater power in unsaid words. And whatever it was, that unreadable tinge in his eyes vanished and he must’ve found what he was searching for because Peter brought his lips to her nose, her forehead, her cheeks and finally her lips as he breathed out praises and mumbled ‘thank yous.’

Gentle. Peter could be nothing but gentle with her.

Perhaps his love was just how he expressed an infinity together.

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moonlitmeeks · 2 years

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wilde about you - jess mariano

summary: jess wasn't made for small town life, and he certainly wasn't made for stars hollow. but maybe, he finds himself liking it a little bit more upon meeting you.

warnings: very brief food/drink mention

words: 1.6k

a/n: also known as the fic where becca tries to nail jess's characterisation; ending is a little bleh but nevertheless, hope you enjoy<33

with every stride, jess scuffed the toes of his already worn shoes against the ground. his hands were shoved deep into his jean pockets, shielding them from the slight chill in the air. judging by the not-so-subtle reactions of those he passed, his face likely mirrored the less than pleasant feelings he harboured towards the small town of stars hollow he now was expected to call ‘home’.

jess mariano was a city kid, born and raised, and now he’d been thrown head first into an eclectic small town where everyone knew everyone, knew every little detail about their neighbours’ lives, and were way too protective over their garden gnomes. it was suffocating, and all he wanted was an escape, a chance to breathe before he was swept under the current of yet another overly annoying quirk.

at the time, storming out of his uncle’s diner had seemed like a good idea. but now, as he aimlessly wandered the streets with no sense of direction nor purpose, his cloud of rage has dissipated to a pathetic mist of annoyance that hung shamefully over his head. he refused to swallow his pride and head back to the diner, so instead turned down path after path, searching for something that would save this small town from being utterly hopeless.

and that was when he spotted it.

just across the street from kim’s antiques stood a little bookstore, bursting with charm. the faded olive letters painted above the door read ‘stars hollow books’ and, though he deemed the name a little uncreative, he had to admit that the store itself looked pretty appealing.

driven by a mixture of sheer curiosity and incitement, jess found himself crossing the street - the need to look before doing so, he quickly discovered, was a rare one in stars hollow - with slightly higher spirits than he had previously held.

the worst outcome of his trip was that the shop, much like the rest of the town, was horrifically boring, thus condemning him to a tragic - but not fatal - future, one void of any chance of fun.

the tinny ring of the bell hanging above the doorway made the boy jump slightly as he entered. his nerves shot up for a moment before he realised the source of the sound was nothing to fear, but rather quite the opposite. he cursed silently at himself, shaking his head at his own foolishness before proceeding further into the shop.

once he was inside, he deemed it practically deserted, though it was hard to tell thanks to the labyrinth of bookcases stacked top to toe with so many titles it made jess’s head spin. the soft afternoon sunlight dappled the floor, sending fractured golden rays through the leaves of miscellaneous plants that littered the large windowsill. jess couldn’t prevent the slight smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as he heard the distant sound of an 80s rock song coming from somewhere in the store.

it was promising, that was for certain.

jess was so immersed in the slice of heaven he had stumbled upon, that your perplexed frame sitting behind the counter had gone completely unnoticed by him. it was quite endearing, the way his focus lay solely in the contents of the towering walls of books. his lack of awareness, however, granted you the perfect opportunity to observe the unfamiliar boy as he browsed the spines of the shelves.

stars hollow was seldom blessed with new faces, but on those rare occasions, it never failed to add a little more excitement to the town. especially so, when the newest resident was undeniably attractive, seemingly around your age, and clearly shared your interest in books.

you had worked at the bookstore for a few years, always happy to organise the many overflowing bookshelves, or dish out recommendations to rory gilmore whenever she came in searching for a new read. over time, it had become a little home to you.

it was the place where you felt most at peace, able to sit behind the counter with a cup of coffee as you read, sometimes indulging in easy conversation with a customer. it was your own small slice of the world to treasure, to call your own.

and now, it had brought you this enchanting stranger.

he seemed to possess good taste, as he lingered slightly around the ‘classics’ section with a purposeful air. gentle fingers ghosted over a few different books, before he plucked one from the shelf and scanned the cover. instantly, you recognised it to be ‘the picture of dorian gray’, a novel you’d read more times than you could count.

“i love that book.” you spoke, immediately prickling with regret at your newfound surge of confidence.

the boy looked up, meeting your gaze quickly. his eyes returned to the book he held in his hands as he flicked through the pages, humming lowly.

“well, it’s no hemingway, but it’s a nice read.”

“ah, you’ve read it before?” you enquired, a wave of relief washing over you as your attempt at starting a conversation proved to be fruitful.

“around three or four times.” he shrugged casually, the hint of a smirk appearing on his face. “guess they call it a classic for a reason.”

“i suppose.” you agreed, wracking your brain for something that would continue this conversation you had sparked. “if you’ve read it before, can i ask why you’re buying another copy?” your tone was light, hoping not to insult the boy before you had the chance to get to know him. “not that i’m judging, i have like, three different copies of the virgin suicides at home.”

“i wrote a little too much in the margins.” the boy mimed a scribbling motion with his free hand, smirk growing. “it sorta turned into writing all over the pages and, well, next thing i know, it’s illegible.”

“got a lot of thoughts about wilde?”

“you could say that.” he hummed, approaching the counter and placing the book lightly on top of it.

“and will this copy escape the same doom?” you joked, delighting when the boy let out an amused snort.

“can’t make any promises.”

as you worked to put the price into the register, you laughed at his remark, shaking your head in amusement. this time, it was his turn to admire you, and the way your eyes crinkled slightly when you laughed, or how easily you navigated the buttons on the cash register, like it was second nature.

“that’s six ninety-five.”

he fished the appropriate change out of his pocket and dropped it into your hand, careful not to let your hands brush. you couldn’t suppress the swelling disappointment at the back of your mind as you slid the book back across the counter.

“hey, i don’t think i’ve seen you around here before. you just move here?” you asked, praying he didn’t think you were trying to pry into his personal life.

“yeah. got here the other night. it’s an… interesting place, that’s for sure.” his nose scrunched slightly as he declared this and you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped past your lips at his poor attempt at masking his true feelings.

“you get used to it, promise. soon enough, you'll willingly attend the town meetings listening to taylor’s exciting news of a traffic light, and feel right at home.”

again, he scoffed lightly, a gesture which made heat rise to the back of your neck. you changed the subject once more, hoping talking would distract your mind from just how quickly you were falling for this stranger.

“you’re one of the first people i’ve seen around the classics section in a while. apart from rory, but she’s rory, and i realise that means nothing to you, but believe me, i think she’s single handedly keeping this place running.”

“well, most people are boring and stupid.” he spoke, raising an eyebrow.

“did you just quote oscar wilde to me?”

“maybe.”

it was undeniable. you liked him. a lot.

“i’m y/n.”

“jess.”

“nice to meet you.”

“so y/n, i’m guessing you know where luke’s diner is.”

“that i do.” you nodded.

you frequently went to luke’s as everyone, especially lorelai gilmore, could attest to the fact that he made the best coffee in town.

“good. rumour has it, if you go there after your shift, there may be a free coffee and pastry of your choice waiting for you.” jess gave you a crooked grin, turning to leave.

biting back a large grin of your own, you called after him.

“cherry danish, i get off at six!”

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

the door shut behind him and you smiled foolishly, burying your warm face in your hands as you willed the clock to tick by faster. though three hours later, after closing up the store in record time, the rumours proved to be true.

you ignored the odd glances you got as you burst through the entrance, running a hand through your hair to tame it before approaching the counter and shooting a smile at luke. the man simply sighed slightly, pushing a hot cup of coffee and a fresh cherry danish across to you.

“i believe this is for you.”

the coffee and pastry themselves were enough to make you dizzy with excitement, but it was the number scrawled on the loose sheet of paper tucked under your coffee cup that surrendered you to your joy.

never had you loved oscar wilde more.

like i say, not the biggest fan of the ending, but consider this my attempt at getting jess's character down whilst trying my hand at more dialogue - something i realised my fics kind of lack in?? feedback / reblogs are much appreciated angels<33

taglist; @alexclaremont-diazbutnot @mirclealignr

add yourself to my taglists here!

#becca's writing <3 #jess mariano #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano x you #jess mariano x y/n #gilmore girls x reader #gilmore girls x you

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wkemeup · 3 years

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Behind the Storm

summary: On a mission, you're hit with a spell that takes away your ability to see. Bucky does what he can to make you feel safe. pairing: Bucky x reader word count: 7.7k warnings: canon level violence, blind!reader, nightmares, bucky is protective af, a/n: I hope the anon who requested the blind!reader fic months ago sees this, so sorry it took so long! ✨

Blood trails down the back of Bucky’s neck; thick and oozing from the rusted pipe now discarded to the corner of the room. His assailant lays face-down in the concrete, unconscious. Steve’s outline sways in double vision a few feet away as Bucky gently taps his fingertips to the source of the bleeding. He winces at the touch and vibranium onyx comes back coated in red.

“Where is she?” Bucky murmurs through the pulsing in his head. He doesn’t have to specify who he’s referring to as Steve calls for you to check in on the coms. It’s a silent agreement they shared— the knowledge that it will always be you he’s asking for. Bucky leans against the wall, half holding himself up as he waits for your voice to come through the coms. Instead, all he hears is crumbling static.

Suddenly, traces of faded purple burst into the hallway—remnants of an exposition of light and energy and power from several hundred feet away. A strangled scream follows and Bucky is sprinting towards the epicenter before Steve can warn him otherwise.

There’s no mistaking that sound. The break in the voice, the panic, the fear. Bucky runs until the room is coated in blinding light, until the purple energy touches over every surface and seeps through the cracks of the concrete. Until it’s consuming everything around him.

He knows that sound because he’s heard it in the dead of night. It’s familiar and agonizing and his stomach plunges deep below the surface, buried under the foundation and dirt and burning through the center of the earth. You cry out again and it echoes through the halls—chasing him, mocking him. He can’t get there fast enough.

Bucky doesn’t spare the time to check whether the witch still occupies the room as he races inside. Darkness tunnels around his vision, his heart pounding so violently in his chest he’s not sure if it’s the adrenaline or the concussion threatening to pull him under. None of it matters as he filters through the purple light in search of you.

When he finally spots you huddled in the corner of the room, desperately clenching your hands around a rusted wrench, Bucky can’t find it in himself to feel even an ounce of relief. Your back is pressed to the wall, protecting yourself. You’re trembling, panicked, and Bucky’s not sure his heart will ease for even a moment until you’re safe on the jet and that terrible ringing has left his ears.

“Y/n,” he says your name gently, but you flinch violently enough you nearly knock your head against the wall.

“Bucky? Is that you?” you call, nearly shouting into the purple haze. Bucky is only standing a few feet ahead of you and while you’re clouded by the remnants of magic, he can see your outline perfectly clear. Still, he notices that you’re looking beyond his shoulder as you call for him. Vacant stare, unfocused eyes.

“Yeah,” he replies gingerly, stepping closer. “I’m right here. Can you see me?”

You shake your head rapidly, your grip flexing against the wrench as if you might be afraid of what else laid within the purple mist. The remnants have faded since whatever the witch did to cause such an explosion of power and Bucky turns his head to find Steve standing at the back of the room. They share a concerned look.

“It’s too dark in here,” you tell him, trying to inch closer to him though each step is apprehensive, like you don’t see him at all. “She must have cut the power. Harkness was right there but then she... I don’t know... it’s too dark, Bucky. I can’t... I can’t see anything.”

Bucky’s heart stills. It freezes cold within his rib cage and blood stops flowing entirely. Daylight seeps in through the broken window to your left and the sunlight touches gently against your skin. Do you not see the stream of light? Can you not feel the warmth on your skin?

You move forward in search of him and you collide against his chest. Startled, you raise the wrench out of instinct and Bucky manages to wrestles it from your grip and toss it to the floor before you could land a swing. You start to panic again, screaming out for him because you don’t realize it’s his arms that wrap around you, his arms trying to ease your fear.

“Hey! Hey! It’s me!” Bucky warns as he blocks an uppercut you attempt to swing at his jawline.

You still, brows furrow in confusion. “Bucky?”

But Bucky doesn’t respond. He can’t. Now that he’s close enough and the magic has faded from the room entirely, he can see what’s become of your eyes and it renders him speechless. Stone molds through his body, tension coursing like mud in his veins, and still—his damn heart won’t stop beating so violently it might crack through his ribs and spill to the floor by your feet.

In place of the vibrant shades he’s grown to adore is a paralyzing storm of dark grey clouds. Swirling through the whites of your eyes, sinking into your irises. Deep and heavy as if lightening might strike within their storm. Thunder rolling just over the hills. They consume every inch.

Bucky reaches forward and grabs the sides of your face. It’s harsher than he ever intended, but he needs you to be still, needs to understand how this could have possibly happened, how the light and color could have been drained from you completely. The suddenness of the touch startles you, but he can’t focus on anything beside the darkness that has consumed your eyes. It terrifies him straight to his bones.

“Bucky? What’s wrong?” you ask him even though he knows you can’t see the hardwired clench in his jaw or the way his eyes screw shut to stop the tears from building. He doesn’t know how to respond or what to say to you. He doesn’t know how to not make you as scared as he is.

“What is it?” Steve calls from the edge of the room, his voice taunt.

You flinch at the sound of Steve’s voice, your gaze turning in his direction and though you’re looking straight at him you still ask, “Steve? Was that you?”

“It’s him,” Bucky replies defeatedly.

You shake your head and his hands fall from the side of your face. “How can you be sure? Harkness has pulled tricks on us before and with the power cut—”

“The power’s not out, Y/n.”

You freeze.

Bucky swallows back what he’s sure is a pool of blood from the inside of his cheek. It’s bitter on his tongue. “The lights are working fine. The sun is shining through the windows. I—I can see him. I can see you, sweetheart.”

“What? No. That’s not...” you step back a few paces, oblivious to the wrench Bucky had cast aside. He lunges for you before you trip over it and still, your heel catches on the edge and you lose your balance. There’s barely time to yelp before you’re back in his arms. He stabilizes you the best he can and then, you glide your shoe against the floor, touching the wrench with a startling realization.

The panic starts to distort your features. Your chest starts rising too quickly, your hands begin to shake. Suddenly, you’re uneasy in your stance, knees falling weak as you try to look at Bucky’s face, but all you can see is an unforgiving darkness. It swallows him whole. It swallows you, too.

“I can’t... I can't see...” you start to murmur between shallowed breaths. “Why can’t I... Why can’t I see?”

“You're going to be okay. I swear it on my life that I’ll fix this,” Bucky tells you because he can see the panic attack coming on. He knows the signs. He’s seen them before in the mirror and he gathers you within his arms. You’re shaking against him and all he can do is hold you tighter. “Just focus on me, okay? Just on me. I’ll fix this, sweetheart. I promise I will.”

It takes twenty minutes before he gets you to calm down enough to make it to the jet. He carries you through the ruins of the warehouse and across the vacant lot because your legs are too weak to walk. The hyperventilation has worn you thin and as you curl against his chest, he can feel the unease buzzing under your skin.

With every step, your hands clench around the straps on his suit like you’re afraid he might disappear if you let go.

***

The only reason you sleep at all is because of the sedative Banner gave you. You had clung so desperately to Bucky’s arm on the jet home, fused yourself like an extension of his own body when you landed back at the compound. You screamed until your voice gave out as the medical team attempted to separate you. You didn’t know they were SHIELD. You couldn’t see the familiar faces. All you knew was someone was trying to pull you away from Bucky and you fought against it with everything you had left.

Bucky tried to tell you who they were. He tried to get you to listen over the noise but you couldn’t see the way he reached for you, couldn’t see the desperation in his eyes or the desolation dragging him under. You were still screaming when Banner put the syringe in your arm; that same ringing returning to his ears, the awful sound of your screams he couldn’t erase from his memory.

The moment your body fell slack, heavy limbs sinking into the gurney as they carted you away, Bucky sank down to his knees. At the center of the landing bay, the Winter Soldier's helplessness was on display for anyone to witness. He couldn't find the strength to move until Steve came in search of him an hour later.

***

“Buck?” Steve stands at the frame of Bucky’s room, leaning into the open doorway. His arms fold over his chest as a short, tight smile pressed at his lips. “Did you even try to sleep?”

Bucky sighs and shakes his head. He knows better than to lie. He’s seen the dark marks under his own eyes.

“You’re listening for her,” Steve says. It’s not a question.

“You know how bad her nightmares use to be, Steve,” Bucky replies slowly. He glances over his shoulder to the wall behind him. You’re separated by a few feet worth of drywall and foundation and still, it’s as if he can hear every breath you take. He can hear the rustle of your sheets as you toss and turn. The squeak of the floorboards when you pace at night. It’s the only barrier between you.

Your screams used to carry through the entire floor. Steve and Sam would be hovering outside your room by the time Bucky got you to calm down enough to close your eyes again without fear of the demons you’d find. He never had the courage to stay and you never dared to ask, so he reluctantly pulled away each time your breathing fell back to an even pace. He’d slip his body out from under your hold and he’d pass Steve and Sam lingering in the hall, talking quietly amongst themselves as if they too hadn’t been awoken by the monsters lurking in your dreams.

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. “We don’t know when the spell will wear off. If it ever will. Wanda is doing everything she can to track down Harkness but—”

A scream rips through the walls and it pulls the breath straight from Bucky’s lungs. He knows that scream. He’s committed that awful, agonizing sound to memory and on instinct, Bucky sprints into the hall. He slams his shoulder on the doorframe on his way out and a sliver of wood breaks off.

“Get Banner!” Bucky shouts to Steve, pointing back to the med wing. Steve disappears down the end of the hallway without an ounce hesitancy.

Your nightmares have never sounded this real; as if the demons might actually be crawling from under your bed and through the shadows to devour you whole. Your voice breaks as if they’re consuming you alive. Like a small child afraid of the monsters in her closet, sheets pulled tight above her head— with only the slight shift of a t-shirt from the window’s draft, you scream as if you've seen bared teeth and scales.

Bucky breaks the hinges on your door as he shoves his way inside. He barely has a second to adjust to the darkness of the room before he registers you fumbling for the gun on your nightstand. There’s no hesitation as you unlatch the safety and aim in his direction. Bucky’s eyes widen.

“Y/n, wait!”

You fire.

Bucky blocks the bullet on his left forearm as he advances on you—the sharp click of metal to vibranium and sparks burst from the contact. He doesn’t let himself look at the tears streaming down your face, the sweat beaded into your hair, or the bullet now lodged into your dresser as he wraps his hand around the gun and yanks it viciously from your grasp before you can manage to pull the trigger again.

“No! Stop!” You scream as if he’s one of the villains in your dreams. Vile and evil and ruthless in his pursuit. There’s such fear in your voice that it nearly paralyzes Bucky on the spot.

It’s only then that he realizes that the lines have blurred between nightmare and reality. You can't open your eyes and see the comfort of your bedroom, the safety of the compound. You can't prove to yourself that the demons are only trapped within your head. Because you’re trapped there, too.

“Y/n! Y/n, listen to me!” Bucky shouts. He fights his way to crawl on top of you, pinning your body to the mattress just to keep you from hurting yourself. You whimper and he molds his palms to the sides of your face. Even as you scratch at him and break blood on his cheek, he’s unyielding. He barely feels the sting of it when you’re this afraid.

He tries to remind himself it’s not him. It’s not him you’re scared of, not him you think you’re fighting. But it’s hard not to when you’re begging him to stop, to let you live, to not hurt you.

“You’re awake!” Bucky tries again, growing desperate and he hears his voice crack. He holds his hands firm on the sides of your face; the solid metal of his left in contrast to the warmth of his right. “Feel me! I’m right here, okay? I’ve got you. Hear me, sweetheart. Feel me. It’s Bucky.”

You freeze, you gaze unfocused up at him though you’re not able to meet his eye. You look directly at him and still—you see straight through.

Suddenly, your features begin to contort and then, you’re sobbing and Bucky’s heart cleaves down the center. He quickly climbs off of you, curling in against your side and wrapping his arms around your trembling frame. You come to him easily, face pressed tight into the crook of his neck, your hands bunched into the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“You’re alright,” he whispers, soothing a hand down your spine. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“I don’t... I don’t know what’s real,” you murmur against his collar and he’s certain that if he didn’t have the serum in his veins, he wouldn’t have heard it at all.

“This is real,” Bucky affirms, holding you as tight as he can manage. “You and me. Right now. This is real, okay? No one is going to hurt you. I’ve got you, honey.”

It’s only then that Bruce slowly emerges from the doorway. He’s holding another syringe in his hand, a solemn look upon his features. He exchanges a short glance with Bucky as he begins to approach.

“Do you trust me?” Bucky asks slowly. He slides the long sleeve of your t-shirt up your arm to give Bruce better leverage. You don’t say anything, but you nod against his chest. Bucky sighed. “You’ll feel a little prick on your arm, okay? It’s going to help you sleep. No dreams this time.”

You don’t respond and Bruce looks to Bucky for guidance. Bucky swallows and give him a short nod. The needle is only inches away when you squeeze Bucky’s waist.

“Promise you’ll stay,” you whisper. “Please.”

Whatever remained of Bucky’s heart shatters completely. Its shards and glass and broken pieces left within his chest and still, he finds the strength to tell you, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You don’t even flinch when Bruce pricks the needle to your vein. Your body becomes so slack that Bucky has to remind himself you’re only sleeping. He still finds himself checking for your pulse, focusing on the gentle breaths against his skin. He doesn’t sleep at all.

***

Bucky spends every night in your room. Even if he starts in the chair by your windowsill, he feels better knowing he’s close enough to notice the nightmares before they start. The slightest variation in your breathing and Bucky crawls into the bed beside you. His arms snake around your waist and gently tug you to lay over his chest. A hand soothes down your spine until your breaths flow evenly again and he listens for the sound of your heartbeat until morning.

You haven’t woken up screaming since.

“Bucky?”

Bucky pulls himself from his trance. He’d barely slept in the week since your sight was taken and the exhaustion is evident in the dark circles under his eyes and the gaunt look on his face. He’s just thankful you’re not able to see it. Still, his lids are heavy as he pushes himself to his feet and follows your voice to the bedroom.

He’s learned to retrain his steps so that you can hear him as he approaches. Intentional placement of his steps over the squeaking floorboards and a heaviness in his heels. It feels almost unnatural given his decades training to be invisible, but it puts you at ease. He can see the tension fade from your shoulders when you recognize his gait.

Slowly, you reach for Bucky but you extend your arm too far to the right and you miss him entirely. Your hand hovers through the air until you find his shoulder and only then do you start to relax as you touch the cold surface of the vibranium.

“Nat usually helps me but she’s out on a run,” you say as your fingers gently tap against his shoulder, light pressure in tender rhythm as if playing the keys on a piano. “Would you mind?”

Bucky nods, but quickly adds, “of course. What do you need?”

“Just something that matches. I can put it on myself, I just... I already feel out of place so I don’t want to be walking around with two different socks on.”

“Lang does that all the time, you know,” Bucky chuckles, desperate to see you smile again. It seems to take most of your energy, but your lips curve just slightly in the edges. It lasts only a moment and it fades quicker than it arrived, but it’s something.

Bucky riffles through your drawers in search of something comfortable for you to wear. Eventually, he settles on a pair of leggings and a loose fitted t-shirt you wore often enough for the color to have faded a few shades lighter in the wash. The fabric is soft against his fingertips as he pulls it from the drawer and sets it on the bed. He doesn’t know much about twenty-first century fashion, but he hopes you won’t mind. Your fingers graze over the clothes and your smile returns.

Then, you reach out for his hand and Bucky hesitates for a moment before he places his right hand in yours. A frown pouts over your lip and you extend your free hand in search of his left. He’s not sure what to make of it, how you noticeably sigh at the touch of cold metal to your skin. It’s not the first time you’ve sought out his left arm since Harkness stole your sight and Bucky simply can't wrap his head around it.

“Why do you do that?” A shiver passes through his spine as your fingers graze along the gold detailing in his palm.

“So I know it’s really you.”

You say it so casually, as if you might see his arm as something other than the embodiment of violence he’d committed under Hydra’s orders. You touch the lines of the plates and trace over what would be his lifeline marked by a river of golden embellishment; feather light grace at the tips of your fingers. It’s almost as if you’re committing the details to memory; preserving him. He realizes then that the arm he’s grown to despise has become a comfort to you – a reminder that when doubt creeps in and threatens to drag you deep into the shadows, that he’s still there with you.

"I’ll be out in a minute, okay?” you tell him, reluctantly letting go of his hand. Bucky lingers a moment longer as you feel around for the tag at the nape of the t-shirt to make sure it’s facing the right way. You smile in his direction and he tries not to let his stomach drop when you look too far to your right and miss him entirely.

“I’ll be outside the door.” Bucky’s voice is raw as it slips out—a byproduct of the shock. Then, he closes the door behind him, careful of the broken hinges he’s yet to replace.

When he looks up, he spots Wanda and Steve huddled around the kitchen table. Wanda’s vibrant red hair is tossed up in a bun, strands falling out of place, and she wears dark circles under her eyes that mirror the discoloration on Bucky’s face. She’s been tracking Harkness since she disappeared but she hasn’t had a single new lead in days. The frustration wears on Steve’s face, too, as he clenches his jaw at something she said.

“Have you heard anything?” Bucky can’t help but ask as he approaches. He feels like a child as he wrings his hands in his lap, looking between Wanda and Steve with what he knows is misguided hope. It's been too long now for the spell to have faded on its own.

“Not yet,” Wanda says slowly. “I’m doing everything I can to track her down but...”

“We need to prepare her, Buck,” Steve cuts in. A frown is etched deep into his features and it looks as though it physically pains him. “Even if we find Harkness, there’s no guaranteeing she’ll reverse the spell. If she even can.”

Bucky falters in his stance, physically taking a step back. His breath suddenly feels tight inside his chest. “What are you saying? You’re just giving up?”

“No, of course not,” Wanda implores. She stands and reaches a hand for Bucky but he flinches before she can touch him. Her lips press to a thin line as she steps away to give him space. “I just... I don’t think we should give her false hope.”

“This doesn’t have to be debilitating, Buck,” Steve tries, but Bucky is barely able to hear him through the ringing in his ears. It echoes as badly as it did in the halls amongst the purple haze, as bad as it so often carried through the foundation into his bedroom as he sprinted to chase the demons from your dreams.

“People lose their sight all the time and they learn how to reacclimate,” Steve continues, cautious with every word. “It's a difficult road, but Y/n--”

“--is an Avenger, Steve!” Bucky slams his hands on the table. The coffee mugs shatter onto the kitchen floor; shards of broken ceramic on the floor by Wanda’s feet, mocha sinking into the cracks in the tile.

“Buck--” Steve reaches out for Bucky’s arm to put him at ease, but Bucky yanks himself out of Steve’s grasp.

He feels like his entire body is on fire. He can’t stand still, can't breathe. He’s been hanging on by a thread, desperate to portray the strength he doesn’t have so you could hold onto hope, so you didn’t have to feel this paralyzing fear the way that he does.

He tries to stop himself, to stop the fears from slipping out, but they’re like fire on his tongue and he can’t swallow them back.

“How the hell is she supposed to be an Avenger if she can’t fucking see!? She’ll never be in the field again. Do you get that!? The one goddamn thing she’s worked her whole life to do—to help people—and she’ll never go on another mission again!”

Wanda lowers her head, eyes averting to the floor. A blush of red coats her cheeks and Steve slowly sinks in his chair, an agonizing look on his face. Bucky is breathing so heavy it starts to feel numb in the back of his head, in his teeth, in his fingertips. His hands tighten to fists and he nearly lashes out again when he notices Wanda’s eyes flicker over his shoulder.

Bucky’s heart drops as he turns to find you standing in the frame of the door, gripping tight to the handle. Tears well through the cloudy grey skies in your eyes and Bucky is certain the floor must have given way from under him because he’s falling through hundreds of feet of abyss. His stomach is somewhere else, his chest caved in. A tear slips over your cheekbone and Bucky’s knees nearly give out.

“Y/n, I—”

“I know,” you say, your voice absent of emotion though it’s laced with such heaviness, it sounds as if it might pull you under the surface to meet him at the bottom of the void. “I know the chances of finding Harkness and reversing this. I know.”

Bucky crosses the room to you— slowly, because he wants you to know he’s coming, to give you the chance to retreat into your room and slam the door in his face. But you don’t. You stand firm and your gaze lays on the ground as he approaches.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispers heavily. “I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re were right, though.” You shrug and there’s a painful sort of emptiness in your expression that fractures a piece from Bucky’s heart. You brush a hand over your eyes and catch tears on your wrist; the reflective streak against florescent lights shine bright over your skin. “Without Harkness, there’s no reversing this. And we both know I’m useless in the field if I can't see the guy with a gun standing a few feet ahead of me.”

Bucky swallows back bile. “You’re not useless—”

“Even if I learned how to adjust to civilian life, I could never be in the field again. I’d be a liability,” you argue, a lump burning in the back of your throat. “And you—you would end up getting hurt because you’d devote all of your attention to making sure I don’t get myself killed.”

“We can talk to that guy in Hell’s Kitchen,” Bucky offers desperately. “He’s blind, right? I’m sure he could help figure out a way for you to—”

“He’s got powers, Bucky. Superhuman senses and I don’t know—sonar or something,” you scoff. The grey storm clouds in your eyes seem to rumble; not in anger or rage, but something darker, something worse, something like acceptance. You exhale a breath so heavy it could have held the weight of an anvil over your chest. “We’re not going to fix this, okay?”

“You don’t know that.”

Bucky’s not sure why he says it. Wanda’s warning about false hope echoes in his ears but maybe he needs it, too. He needs something to cling onto because if he confronts the fact that he may never get to watch the way the afterglow flickers within the colors of your eyes again, or catch your gaze from across the room as a smile lifts at your cheeks made only for him, or see you sprinting towards him in the middle of a battlefield and leap into his arms, he might crumble completely.

He knows it’s selfish. He knows that this isn’t his burden to bear, that this isn’t his reality to accept. But if you're not a part of the Avengers anymore, you’ll inevitably learn how to be okay without them. You’ll learn how to find normalcy again in your own way – he knows you will because you’re stronger than anyone he’s ever known.

But—

What if you no longer find purpose living in a tower with a team you’re no longer a part of? What if you decide you don’t need him anymore? What if you leave? What if you break his heart beyond what he can repair? He won’t survive it and that, he knows most of all.

Bucky doesn’t say a word of his own fears as he slowly reaches towards you, his hand gingerly laid upon the side of your cheek. You gasp at first, startled by the sensation, but you relax as the onyx of his vibranium thumb brushes along your cheekbone. He knows then that if you could see his face, you’d realize how painfully he loves you – so whole and heavy that his entire world rests simply in the palms of your hands.

“I’m not giving up,” Wanda says softly from the edge of the room. “I promise, Y/n. I won’t stop until I find her.”

“I know,” you tell her and to anyone else, they might have assumed the smile you forced was genuine. But Bucky can see how it aches, how desperately you wished for it to be sincere. It doesn’t reach your eyes, not with the oncoming storm in its wake, and it fades the moment Wanda’s footsteps disappear from the room.

***

Bucky wakes when he hears you scream. He jolts out of bed, the sunlight streaming in through the cracks between your curtains, and he’s disoriented for a moment as he finds he way to his feet. He slept in your room again last night as he had for the two weeks since Harkness disappeared, and he stares blankly at the empty bed. Sheets are thrown to the side, crumpled in use, and you’re nowhere to be found.

Then, he recognizes the bitter smell of coffee filtering into the bedroom. Bucky narrows his eyes, certain that the rest of the team was out in search of Harkness. No one else should be on this floor. His heart is still pounding as he makes his way into the kitchen, cautious of the broken hinges on your door.

He finds you running your hand under the sink, grumbling under your breath, and the coffeepot sitting half empty on the counter top. Beside it sits two mugs amongst a pool of spilled coffee over the marble surface. Bucky sighs.

Without word on Harkness, you’ve been trying to find your routine again. Determined to get back to a normalcy you weren’t convinced you’d ever find, but stubborn enough to try. The couch is slightly shifted out of place, the edge of the carpet turned up. He can practically envision your path to the kitchen and clumsy attempts to avoid the furniture in your way.

“Are you alright?” Bucky calls gently, soft enough to not startle you to his presence.

You glance up in his direction and quickly turn off the faucet, nursing your left hand. It’s only then that he sees the burn mark running over your skin; red and beginning to blister. You hold your wrist delicately against your ribs and you make no attempts to hide it from him. You know better than to try.

“I just wanted to do something nice for you,” you murmur, embarrassed. “Thought I could at least make you coffee after you spent these last two weeks taking care of me and I—I still fucked it up.”

Bucky gently takes your injured hand in his own and covers the burn with the cool palm of his left hand. You sigh at the touch, eyes fluttering closed, and for a moment Bucky can pretend like this is any other day. He could imagine that when you open your eyes again, it will be to the vibrant shades he sees in his dreams

“Looks like perfectly good coffee to me,” he says sweetly, eyeing the coffee as it drips over the edge of the counter into a puddle on the floor. “You just missed the cup is all.”

He’s surprised when he hears your muffled laugh against his t-shirt. Your lips curve to a smile and you lean your head against his shoulder, content in the security of his frame beside you. Slowly, as if to give you the chance to pull away, Bucky brings your hand to his lips and presses a feather light kiss to the burn. The feeling surprises you as you pull in a shaken inhale and you turn your head up to him.

Bucky’s gaze flickers to your lips.

“Y/n!” Natasha’s voice suddenly echoes through the hall. It startles you enough that you flinch against Bucky’s hold, pressing your face tight into the crook of his neck. Footsteps carry in from the elevator, Natasha panting as she sprints towards you. She pauses at the edge of the kitchen. “We found Harkness.”

You stiffen in Bucky’s arms, though you don’t say a word.

“You’re sure?” Bucky says instead.

Natasha nods. “She’s in interrogation now.”

“Can she reverse it?”

“Wanda’s working on it,” Nat admits, the hesitancy reading in her tone. She tries to get a better look at you, hoping to see relief on your features, but you’re too afraid for that. You’re too afraid to give yourself even an ounce of hope in the fear it might be ripped away from you again. So instead, you press your ear to Bucky’s chest and try to steady your breathing. His arm wraps tighter at your shoulders and the compression seems to alleviate some of the tension in your body.

“I’ll bring her down in a minute,” Bucky says and you squeeze your arms around his waist. Natasha gives him a short nod and he waits until the sound of the elevator dings and the doors have closed behind her to exhale.

“Bucky?”

He swallows. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Will you—” You pause, taking in a shaking breath. Your gaze fixated beyond where he could see, dark grey clouds fading near to black. “Will you promise me... if this doesn’t work... Promise you won’t leave me behind?”

Bucky’s heart lurches and suddenly, his throat is so dry it might start bleeding from the cracks.

“I’m scared this might not ever go away, Bucky, but I’m... I’m terrified that I’ll lose you because of it,” you cry, your voice muffled by the collar of his shirt and it fractures Bucky completely. Your fingers curl into the fabric as you gather fistfuls in your hands. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you, either, and I know it’s been such a burden to take care of me the way you have but—”

“No,” Bucky manages to choke out, his voice breaking in the effort. “Never, sweetheart. I’m right here. I’m here with you. Always. As long as you want, okay? Forever, if you ask.”

He’s not sure how else he can say it—that he loves you. The very idea of you being anything but the brightest light at the end of tunnel was unimaginable to him. To even consider you as a burden, as a weight upon his shoulders he could not carry, was inconceivable. Every moment he had with you before Harkness – while hidden amongst stolen moments and safe within the shadows – was all that kept him going for a long time. And now—now he has you in his arms and you cling to him as if he could ease each of the worry lines on your face with the touch of his fingers.

There is no doubt, no hesitancy, in his voice when he says, “you have me, sweetheart. No matter what happens. You have me.”

Bucky doesn’t dare allow himself to consider the weight of how easily you relax into his arms as he says it. You only give him a short nod, a tight smile, and he begins to guide you to the elevator. He doesn't know what to expect, when he reaches the interrogation room, but there’s something lighter in his chest – as if a boulder had been lifted from his shoulders – because you’re holding his hand.

Natasha’s eyes flicker to your intertwined fingers as the two of you approach. She does well enough to hide the smirk that pushes at her cheeks, but Bucky can still see the vague twitch in the muscle. She folds her arms over her chest.

“Ah! And here’s the guest of honor herself!” Agatha Harkness’ voice rings through the room. She wears an unsettling smile that sits wide against her features but does little to reach her eyes. She fixates on you as you step inside the room, admiring the storm clouds blocking your line of sight. Bucky can’t register touch in his left hand the way he can in his right, but he can still feel the pressure as you squeeze it tighter, flexing your grip to remind yourself he’s there with you.

“Just do as you promised, Agatha,” Wanda warns.

“As long as our deal still stands,” Agatha taunts back. She tugs at the bindings securing her hands—and her powers—at bay and still, a flicker of purple light dances in the tips of her fingers. She winks in Bucky’s direction and he finds himself inching in front of you. It only seems to make her smile wider.

“Reverse the spell, Agatha,” Wanda orders flatly. Bucky doesn’t dare ask what she agreed to do in exchange for Harkness’ cooperation, but whatever it is, he’s grateful.

Agatha rolls her eyes. “Fine, fine. Bring her to me.”

Bucky doesn’t move. He can practically feel your pulse raging from your palm as you keep your hand latched against his. Natasha bends down and slowly releases the cuffs on Harkness’ wrists, though she’s cautious to remind the witch that there were several Avengers still present in the room should she try anything foolish.

“Can’t exactly perform a miracle if the metal man is standing in my way,” Agatha groans. She kicks her legs up onto the interrogation table, lounging back into the thin metal chair as if it could recline.

Bucky feels a growl burning in his chest as he stares down the witch and a dangerous thought crosses his mind of whether ending her pathetic life would simply reverse the spell on its own. She must read the contemplation upon his face because her smile falls and she sits up straighter in her position.

“It’s okay, Bucky,” your voice says gently from behind him. Your hand slips from his hold and suddenly, he feels cold. He’s not sure what to do with the emptiness there, so he curls his fingers to a fist as you feel for the back of the chair and slowly sit opposite Harkness.

“Wow,” she preens, “I really did a number on you.”

Your expression remains unchanged. Only Bucky notices when your jaw flexes, the muscle twitching as you struggle to maintain the steel to your features. He nearly reaches out for your hand again before he stops himself.

“Do it, Agatha. Now,” Wanda presses. Red magic filters at her fingertips, traveling between the spaces in-between as if she were rolling a coin. Effortless and beautiful and terrifying all the same. Agatha swallows as she watches the magic curl to a ball at the center of Wanda’s palm.

“Alright, alright. Geesh.” Agatha leans forward against the table, her hands coming up to her eye line as a purple light begins to emerge in the middle of the room. It begins as nothing, pulling pieces of magic from the air or from the florescence or from the very matter of space itself until it winds and winds like spooling a ball of yarn until it’s the size of a small ball.

Agatha licks her lips in concentration as she lowers the ball of magic to your eye line. Then, the very edge of her mouth curves up at the corner and Bucky doesn’t have even a moment to react before Agatha’s arms extend and the light warps into a purple so dark, it’s nearly black, and the entirety of it is drawn into your eyes.

“What did you do!?” Wanda yells, slamming Harkness against the wall with the invisible strength of her power. Natasha is on her in an instant, cuffing her wrists and dampening the witch's power.

But Bucky doesn’t notice any of it happening around him. Not as you start screaming. He skids onto his knees in front of you as your hands press into your eyes.

“Y/n!” Bucky shouts, his hands gripping at your thighs. “Y/n! Answer me!”

But you can’t. He doesn’t even know if you can hear him over the sounds of your own screams. It echoes so painfully within the room that Natasha winces as she dares a glance in your direction. You start shaking then, tremors so violent that Bucky doesn’t even have a moment to think before he’s scooped you into his arms and takes off running.

He doesn’t know where he’s going. The med wing, maybe. But he can barely think. Barely breathe. He nearly slams the two of you into the stairwell doors in an effort to race you between floors. He should have known better than to trust the word of that witch. She’d blinded you to make a quick escape. She had no reason to reverse the spell and every reason to destroy the lives of the people intent on tracking her down.

He never considered that it could get worse. He never stopped for even a second to wonder.

He should have. If anyone understood the cruelty of the fates, it was Bucky Barnes. He should have protected you from it. He should have kept you safe. He should have—

“Bucky?”

He stills on the third floor, his pulse pounding so violently in his chest he’s scared to look down into your lap, scared he’s going to find his blood coating your clothes, his heart raw and exposed in your hands. Your voice echoes through the stairwell as you call his name again and slowly, he lowers you to the steps.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, almost painfully so as Bucky kneels down on the steps ahead of you. You keep your hands clenched into his shirt, your fingertips grazing over the comfort of solid metal on his left arm.

"I should get you to Banner,” Bucky tries, throwing a cautious glance to the door a few steps above. He can see the agents in lab coats passing by the small window in the door and he wonders if maybe he can grab their attention and bring someone to you.

When he turns back to you, he finds you staring at him. Lips parted, hands shaking.

It takes a moment before he realizes.

But when he does—the air gasps from his lungs.

The wash of storm clouds in your eyes has faded, cast out beyond the horizon and exposing the rush of color in its wake. You don’t blink. You don’t look away from him for even a second and your eyes start to water as you stare at him, trying to find the strength to speak. But words aren’t enough. They can't be. Not with the way you’re looking at him.

“Y/n?” Bucky gapes, unable to tear his gaze away from the crystal-clear sky in your eyes.

The smile that presses into your cheeks makes Bucky’s stomach weak. It brightens across your face, touches your eyes, and Bucky chokes back a sob before it can consume him whole. Your hands are on his face then, holding his cheeks, thumbs brushing sweetly over unshaven stubble. You look at him like he’s the most wonderful thing you’d ever seen and it renders him speechless.

“Hi,” you manage to say through the tears and the laugh and the smile so wide on your face it might even touch your ears.

Bucky laughs and it tastes so beautifully of relief. “Hi.”

“You're so beautiful,” you whisper, your fingertips pressing delicately along his jawline as if you’re memorizing him all over again. There’s no teasing in your voice as you say it, no playful smile. It’s the sincerity of it that scares him the most, that tugs the lightness from his features and made his heart pound so loudly he’s sure you can hear it.

He doesn’t mistake it for a moment when your gaze flickers to his lips. It happens quickly and the anticipation that follows feels thick in the air between you. His chest rises quicker with every breath, his hands shaking in anticipation. He doesn’t realize how close he is to you until your breath touches his cheeks. And then – you pull him to your lips.

There’s a new vulnerability in closing his eyes but as your lips meet and he’s consumed entirely in the feel of your mouth against his, the fear slips away. Your arms wrap around his neck, tugging him closer and he crawls up the stairs to hover over you. He feels you smile against him, your tongue flicking over his upper lip, and he swears he’ll never know what it is to be afraid again.

When you finally pull away, it’s only when your breathless and Bucky’s cheeks are pink, his lips swollen.

You laugh, brushing your hand down the side of his face. Your eyes trace over his features, taking your time, before you meet his eye again. “You said if I asked for forever...”

There is no hesitancy when Bucky replies. He pressed another kiss to the corner of your mouth, then to your cheekbones, your nose, feather light over your eyes.

“I’m yours.”

---

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic

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headspace-hotel · 2 years

Text

Random D&D Spells!

(based on this post)

This is a list of 100 strange, offbeat, and questionable D&D spells. There's more where these came from, but I decided I was going to post them in sets of 100, for convenience.

Suggested usage: I imagine a spell-scroll "gumball machine" that randomly dispenses spells to players based on a roll of a d100.

Not all of these spells are particularly useful and many are very much a "use at your own risk" sort of thing. The "random spell dispenser" will be more fun once there are more spells, since there will be more "overly specific" or useless spells, but have fun with these!

Electrocuting Noose (Level 2)—You braid a rope of lightning and roll to hit a creature within 30 feet of you. If successful, the rope tightens around the neck of the entity you select, causes 1d6 lightning damage, and pulls the creature 10 feet into the air, where it must make a Strength saving throw equal to your spell save DC or take an additional 2d6 damage.

Levitate Deer (Level 1)—You use an action to cause a deer within 50 feet of you to levitate for 45 minutes. It has a flying speed of 15 feet for the duration.

Freshwater Authority (Level 1)—You move to a pond, river, stream, or other freshwater body of water and summon a being made of water weeds and algae wearing a suit and tie, which bestows upon you 1d10 to add to your next Wisdom, Charisma, or Intelligence check or saving throw.

Complaint Invisibility (Level 2)—For 30 seconds, you complain loudly about an object or creature no larger than 10 feet in diameter in all directions, causing it to become invisible for 25 minutes or until you end the spell (by complimenting the object or creature).

Plaid Striking (Cantrip)—When you hit with a melee weapon, the creature or object hit is covered with a colorful plaid pattern until your next turn.

Torturing Counterexample (Level 2)—When an entity within 30 feet of you is successfully revived after their hit points drop to 0, you summon a frightening image of that entity’s dead body, showing what would have happened if the affected entity were not successfully revived. This image follows closely behind the affected entity, as if undead, for two hours or until you end the spell. Whenever an ally within a 30 foot radius of the affected entity and their image rolls a critical failure, the image will cling to the arm or wrist of a nearby ally of the affected entity and say something like “Why couldn’t you save me?” or “I didn’t want to die this way!” causing all allies that can hear to take 1d10 psychic damage.

Delousing Stab (Level 1)—For the next 12 hours, any creature you stab with a bladed weapon of any kind is instantly cleansed of lice. The weapon still does the usual amount of damage.

Crystal Flare (Level 2)—You hold a crystal of quartz or some mineral and cause it to glow brightly for the next 5 minutes; for 24 hours, you can instantly get 5 more minutes of light from the crystal by touching it again. The light illuminates everything in a 20 foot radius, dissipates magical darkness in a 20 foot radius, and unless obstructed it can be seen up to 3 miles away.

Dirtying Stun (Cantrip)—You gather a ball of mud or other filth to throw at a creature within range. If you successfully hit them, they have disadvantage on their next saving throw and are knocked prone.

Respiratory Brightness(Cantrip)—Your lungs appear to give off a bright glow from within your ribcage, and each breath you exhale appears as a cloud of bright mist in front of your face before dissipating. This is visible even in magical darkness and lasts for 5 hours or until you end the spell.

Fireproof Finger (Cantrip)—For 10 minutes, the index finger of your dominant hand is immune to fire damage.

Dark Whisk (Level 1) —You summon a whisk made of shadow and beat a nearby shadow as if making meringue. Magical darkness expands from the area you are whisking in a radius that increases by 1 foot for every 15 seconds you do this. If you whisk for more than 8 minutes, the darkness falls apart and dissipates because you over-beat it.

Shredding Surgery (Level 2)—You seize three or more daggers or sharp knives of any type (up to 12), thread, and a sewing needle, select a creature within 10 feet of you, and roll to hit for each blade (all of this is a single action). That creature must make a Dexterity saving throw with a DC equal to your spell save DC. If failing, they take 2d4 slashing damage for each knife that hits as the knives become animated and cut randomly into their body. The damage increases by 1d4 for each higher level you use to cast the spell. Immediately afterward, the sewing needle becomes animated and stitches their wounds haphazardly, causing an additional 1d4 piercing damage. The creature must make a Constitution saving throw with a DC of 10. If failing, they take an additional 1d12 necrotic damage as the wounds become infected; otherwise, they heal 1d8 hit points.

Prying Twilight (Level 1)—During the period of dusk or dawn, you gain advantage on skill checks to open doors and containers, locked or unlocked.

Topiary Eluding (Level 1)—Using an action, you change a nearby shrub or tree into a realistic topiary in your likeness, causing the next attack directed at you to be directed at the topiary instead. Projectiles aimed at you will hit the topiary, and enemies attempting to hit you will find themselves hitting the topiary.

Ferret Commentary (Level 1)—As an action, you cause a talking illusion of a ferret to appear and to comment on events and activities in your surroundings for 20 minutes. The ferret follows the spellcaster, walking through the air at about chest height. The comments are typically good-natured, highly rambling and distractible, and often reminiscent of a sports commentator.

Roving Tambourine (Level 1)—Summons a magical tambourine, which roams randomly over an area of up to 1 square mile as if carried and shaken by a person for 24 hours or until the caster ends the spell.

Intimidating Carcass (Level 3)—You enchant the carcass of any animal to walk behind you, granting you an automatic +10 to intimidation for the spell’s duration. After 15 minutes, the carcass flops to the ground again like an ordinary carcass.

Freckle Appearing (Cantrip)—You point at the skin of a creature you can see within 10 feet, causing a freckle to appear where you point.

Woodsy Thwarting (Level 1)—In any area covered with trees or shrubs, you can, as a bonus action, halve the movement of up to 3 entities that you can see until your next turn.

Lube Region (Cantrip)—Produces a slippery magical water-based substance that continuously lubricates an area of your choice up to 1 foot in diameter for 15 minutes or until you end the spell. After the spell ends, the substance evaporates.

Moose Troubleshooting (Level 1)—Summons a moose that gives you the power to reroll an Insight or Investigation check up to 4 times. However, it causes a -3 debuff to all your rolls. This ability can be used once per long rest.

Hemorrhage Illumination(Cantrip)—For 10 minutes, whenever you bleed the blood gives off light illuminating objects it touches or stains. This is visible in magical darkness up to 20 feet away.

Fox Purging (Level 1)—You speak a word of power, causing all foxes to be forcefully propelled out of a sphere with a 90-foot radius centered on the caster.

Mollusk Radar (Level 2)—For 15 minutes, you can sense the location of any mollusks within 300 feet of you. This ability can be used only once per long rest.

Sparing Dazzle (Level 1)—As a bonus action, you touch a nearby creature or entity, causing them to sparkle brightly like snow in sunlight and to be unaffected by any spell cast in the next 12 seconds with an area effect. This lasts until your next turn.

Forging Repulsion (Level 2)—You hold a small metal object tightly in your fist and summon arcane power, causing red-hot metal bars to appear around you, cool immediately to the color of the metal object you are holding, and push outward from you, forcing all entities and creatures that fail a Strength saving throw with a DC of 20 out of a circle with a 5-foot radius centered on the caster. Each level above 2nd that you use to cast the spell expands the radius of the circle by 5 feet.

Optimism Scorch (Level 1)—You make a confident, positive assertion about the near future and roll Persuasion. Any entity that can hear you that is successfully persuaded (whether your optimistic assertion is positive or negative to them) takes 1d6 fire damage.

Caustic Seesaw (Level 2)—You cast a spell that falls over you and one another creature you choose within 40 feet of you, lasting for 6 minutes. As you cast the spell, the creature you choose immediately takes 1d6 acid damage and is propelled 15 feet into the air for 6 seconds. When the current turn ends, the creature descends safely to the ground, and you take 1d6 acid damage and are propelled 15 feet into the air. After 6 seconds, you safely descend to the ground and the creature you choose is propelled again into the air and takes an additional 1d6 acid damage. This continues, with the spell’s effect alternating every 6 seconds, until the spell ends, until your hit points or the creature’s hit points drop to 0, or until you use an action on your turn to end the spell. (If you are in the air on your turn, ending the spell will cause you to fall 15 feet.)

Hail Pounding (Level 2)—You select a creature within 40 feet of you and roll a d10, then roll to hit that number of times. Large hailstones fly from a storm cloud that gathers above the creature you selected and hit the creature once for every successful hit, each dealing 1d6 bludgeoning damage.

Clown Chase (Level 2)—Summons a pack of 3-6 frightening clowns, which chase a creature of your choice for 3 minutes in a direction of your choice. That creature’s movement speed increases by 30 feet per turn for the duration, but they become frightened and must flee from the clowns.

Starlight Filibuster (Level 1)— When an entity you can see attempts an action while situated where the stars are visible, you can use an action to postpone their action until starlight fades from the sky at dawn.

Circular Igniting (Level 1)—You pick a point within 50 feet of you. Objects and entities along the edge of a circle with a radius of 12 feet, centered on the point you choose, catch fire, taking 1d4 fire damage. Objects within the circle and outside it are unharmed.

Blasting Putrefying (Level 6)—You summon a blast of decay and rot in a straight line emanating 60 feet from you. Any food that falls within this line rots, plant material dies, and living creatures take 4d8 necrotic damage. Additionally, any creature within 15 feet of falling on the line must make a Constitution saving throw with a DC equal to your spell save DC or start gagging and vomiting for the next 30 seconds. Undead creatures are unaffected.

Paw Transplanting (Level 1)—You enchant the paws of an animal within 10 feet of you, causing its paws to trade places with your hands for 25 minutes. You will be able to use the paws as though they were part of your own body, and the animal will be able to do the same with your hands.

Pervading Agony (Level 4)—You focus on your most painful and horrific memories, causing you and everyone within 20 feet of you to make a Wisdom saving throw, taking 5d4 psychic damage if failing and half damage if successful. If the caster fails, the spell ends, but if the caster succeeds, everyone within 20 feet including the caster must make a Constitution saving throw or have their movement reduced to 5 feet per turn for the duration of the spell and their vision reduced to 15 feet in any direction. The 5d4 psychic damage and Wisdom saving throw is repeated on each turn beginning in the spell’s effects. The spell lasts until the caster fails a Wisdom saving throw (failing the Constitution saving throw will reduce the caster’s vision and movement, but will not end the spell).

Ignited Trial (Level 1)—You challenge an entity to perform a feat that you choose (requiring a skill/ability check.) If they accept the challenge and successfully perform the feat, they catch fire and take 2d8 fire damage.

Dagger Redouble (Level 1)—You touch a dagger. Any hits made using that dagger until the spellcaster’s next turn automatically do double damage as a second dagger appears to materialize and follow the first dagger’s movements.

Labyrinthine Negation (Level 2)—You summon an aura of confusion around yourself stretching to a radius of 50 feet, which lasts until your next turn. Projectiles, spells and effects that travel in a straight line, when entering the area affected by the spell, will turn and loop around in a maze-like pattern of detours until they hit the ground or dissipate without reaching their intended targets.

Entity Janitor (Level 1)—You summon a strange entity, impossible to fully comprehend to the mortal mind. For the next hour, the entity will attempt to clean anything within a 50 foot radius it perceives as dirty. This includes anything with hair, anything visibly wet, anything covered in grass or foliage, and anything shiny or reflective. The janitor has an AC of 12 and carries an ordinary mop, spray bottle, bucket, and rag to clean with, and disappears if hit by an attack, though all attack rolls against it have disadvantage.

Redirect Dew (Level 1)—You use an action to gather up all the dew in a 30 foot radius of you and redirect it into a container or onto a point of your choice.

Charring Convalescence (Level 1)—You select a creature you can touch. That creature instantly heals 1d12 hit points while simultaneously taking 1d12 fire damage.

Enamel Laceration (Level 1)—You touch a piece of enamel, such as a tooth, which the spell consumes. Roll to hit a creature within 50 feet of you. If you are successful, they take 4d4 slashing damage from enamel shards lacerating their flesh.

Allergenic Ripple (Level 1)—A wave of magic ripples outward from you, causing itchy skin and sniffles in creatures within a 15 foot radius. All creatures within this radius must make a Constitution saving throw (DC:5) or begin the next turn with disadvantage due to being distractingly itchy. Any creatures who roll critical failures enter anaphylactic shock and their hit points drop immediately to zero.

Nameless Eggplant (Cantrip)—You summon an eggplant. Anyone who sees, touches, or otherwise becomes aware of the eggplant’s presence must make a Wisdom saving throw (DC: 20) If failing, they will be unable to identify, describe, or refer to the eggplant using any word. (This also applies to the person who cast the spell).

Enraging Insulter (Level 1)—An entity you choose within 50 feet of you is followed by a loud voice which shouts insulting comments at them for 10 minutes. If the entity begins their turn under the spell’s influence, they must make a Wisdom saving throw (DC: 8). If failing, they will be compelled to disengage from combat and angrily argue with the voice until their next turn.

Unhinged Decay (Level 3)—An enemy you choose within 30 feet immediately takes 6d6 necrotic damage. On their next turn, the nearest entity to them within 30 feet must make a Wisdom saving throw (DC: 15). If failing, they too take 6d6 necrotic damage and also prompt the nearest unaffected entity within range to make a DC 15 Wisdom saving throw on beginning their next turn, which in turn will have the same effect. There is no limit to the number of entities that can be affected at once. The spell ends only when all affected entities are killed or when all affected entities begin their turns with no one else in range.

Maiming Lecture (Level 4)—You sternly lecture an entity that can hear you and understand your language for one minute, causing them to make a Wisdom saving throw with a DC equal to your Performance roll when you are finished. If you are not interrupted and they fail the save, they take 3d10 slashing damage.

Appraising Sabre (Level 1)—You touch a bladed weapon of any type, causing it to become enchanted. For twenty-four hours, when any object is damaged by the weapon, a voice emitted from the weapon will announce the initial monetary value of the item and the cost of the damage done, becoming audibly agitated if the item is destroyed or damaged beyond repair. The weapon will not appraise enemies themselves but will appraise their weapons and armor.

Circumvent Glassware (Level 1)—For 10 minutes, all parts of your body will be able to pass through glass objects as though they were air, making you unable to touch, interact with, or pick up anything made of glass.

Disquieting Bleeding (Level 1)—You touch an entity, causing them to constantly ooze blood without any visible wounds for one hour. This has no harmful effects but it is disquieting.

Reviving Quip (Level 1)—You say something snappy and clever over your fallen companion’s body, which revives them with 1d8 HP.

Soapy Glide (Level 1)—A slippery foam of soap bubbles forms beneath you, which grants you an additional 20 feet of movement per turn for the spell’s duration (12 minutes). The momentum of your slippery gliding also grants you an additional +2 to hit. However, if you are hit by an enemy, you will slip and be knocked prone.

Misplace Carcass (Level 1)—You touch an animal carcass and visualize a location within 300 feet of you, which causes it to be teleported to a location within 300 feet that isn’t the one you thought of.

Induced Frolic (Level 1)—A creature within 30 feet of you must make a Charisma saving throw with a DC equal to your spell save DC. If failing, they become charmed and skip and bound happily about for 10 minutes, disengaging from combat and disregarding anything happening around them, though they may repeat their saving throw on their turn.

Grime Council (Level 2)—You summon a group of nine to twelve filthy, humanoid creatures dressed in heavily soiled aristocratic finery, which bestow favor or disfavor on any entity you select within 40 feet of you. Entities favored by the council will receive advantage on a type of check or saving throw of your choice, and an additional 10 temporary hit points, for 24 hours. Entities disfavored receive disadvantage and their max HP is lowered by 10 for the same period. Favor or disfavor is bestowed based on how visibly dirty they are, with extremely filthy entities being favored.

Puny Hailstorm (Level 1)—Causes a handful of small hailstones to fall from the sky over a 10 foot radius centered at a point within 30 feet of the caster. Entities within that radius must make a Dexterity saving throw (DC: 5) to avoid being hit by a hailstone; if failing, they take 1 point of damage.

Boniest Discomfort (Cantrip)—Up to 3 creatures that you can see must make a Wisdom saving throw with a DC equal to your spell save DC. If they fail, they are made very uncomfortable by the sensation of skeleton hands touching them.

Coarsen Undershirt (Cantrip)—You use an action to make the undershirt or other equivalent inner clothing layer of an entity you can touch coarser and more uncomfortable.

Oceanic Strengthening (Level 1)—For either the duration of your turn or for one ability check or saving throw, you receive a +5 to strength on top of any additional bonuses, provided you are in contact with seawater.

Venom Godmother (Level 2)—You allow yourself to be stung or bitten by a venomous animal, which allows you to summon a wasp-like fairy creature that claims to be your Venom Godmother. The Venom Godmother offers you three wishes, which will be granted as long as they are for non-magical venomous animals. If you wish for something that is not a venomous animal, the Venom Godmother will disappear and have to be summoned again.

Confetti Bafflement (Cantrip)—You throw confetti in someone’s face. They gain disadvantage on their next Wisdom saving throw.

Crepe Stockpile (Level 1)—Summons a pocket dimension that can be used to hold a finite but incredibly large amount of crepes (equivalent to a large warehouse). Crepes stored in the crepe stockpile do not go bad and are always in the exact condition they were in when placed. The pocket dimension remains open for 120 seconds at a time when the spell is cast. When it closes, any object within the pocket dimension that is not a crepe or an acceptable topping or filling for a crepe will result in the destruction of the pocket dimension and all crepes within, and the ejection of the non-crepe object.

Tranquility Slap (Level 1)—You meditate on a peaceful, serene image for one minute. For the next 10 minutes, any entity you slap with your open palm will become Charmed by you and seek out a peaceful place to lie down and relax.

Catastrophic Moonbeam (Level 3)—You look directly at the moon and draw its light toward you, causing a pure white moonbeam to focus itself over you and descend around you in a 15 foot radius, dealing 1d12 radiant damage during a crescent moon, 2d12 damage during a half moon, 3d12 damage during a gibbous moon, and 4d12 damage during a full moon. If the moon is not visible to you, the spell has no effect.

Seasick Roil (Level 1)—You choose a location within 30 feet of you. All entities within a 10 foot radius of that location feel the ground tilt and sway beneath them like the deck of a ship, and must make a Constitution saving throw equal to your spell save DC. If failing, they become seasick until your next turn and must make an additional Dexterity saving throw to avoid being knocked prone.

Kinglier Lettering (Cantrip)—You run your finger or hand across written or carved lettering, which causes it to be written in a fancier and more kingly-looking font.

Frostbite Hurling (Level 1)—You roll to hit any creature within range with a thrown projectile. On a successful hit that creature takes 1d10 cold damage and its movement is halved for its next two turns.

Menacing Trash (Level 1)—You enchant a pile of garbage or refuse at least 4 cubic feet in volume, causing it to exude an aura of menace. For the next hour, anyone that comes within 20 feet of it must make a Wisdom saving throw (DC: 8) or become frightened by it and attempt to leave the 20 foot radius surrounding the trash pile.

Bite Enhancement (Level 1)—For one hour, your bites deal double damage.

Spooky Pebble (Cantrip)—You summon a ghostly pebble from beyond the mortal plane. The pebble can touch objects but floats a few inches above the ground, and disappears after 15 minutes.

Rain Hemorrhage (Level 1)—You summon reddish-brown rain clouds above an area within 100 feet of you with a 10 foot radius, which release a downpour of fresh blood for 3 minutes before dissipating.

Pervading Terminology (Level 2)—You choose a random word, in any language or of your own invention, and speak an enchantment containing it over an object of your choice. For 24 hours, all entities within 30 feet of you that fail an Intelligence saving throw (DC:20) will refer to the object using that word, including the caster. If any entities successfully pass the saving throw and question the use of the word, all affected by the spell will begin to more broadly apply the word, using it to apply to the class of objects the object belongs to or to other, similar objects. If the caster passes their initial Intelligence save they can end the spell whenever they choose; otherwise it ends after 24 hours.

Sunburst Remedy (Level 2)—During the hours of daylight, you spend 15 minutes gathering a burst of sunshine, which can be used at any time until sunset to end the effect of one poison, disease or curse from an entity you can touch.

Soil Acquirement (Level 1)—You instantly transfer up to a cubic foot of dirt from the ground around you into your pack or into any container you are carrying.

Certifying Boar (Level 1)—Summons a spectral boar which confers upon you a license or certification of your choice. For one hour, anyone who attempts to verify that you are qualified to do something requiring a license or certification must make a DC 20 Wisdom saving throw. If failing, they will find that you possess the license or certification, otherwise the spell ends.

Mushroom Identifying (Cantrip)—Once per long rest, you can accurately identify any mushroom and know its properties.

Leaf Incantation (Cantrip)—You pluck a green leaf from a nearby tree and gain a 1st-level spell slot. This can be used once per long rest.

Synthesize Wolf (Level 2)—You arrange organic materials of your choice into the life-sized shape of a wolf and perform rituals (including howling) for several hours over them. At the end of the rituals, the materials will form into a wolf-like creature with the abilities, hit points, etc. and needs of a normal wolf, except its appearance will hint at its components. The creature is tame and follows your commands.

Char Mediocrity (Level 1)—When an entity within 10 feet of you rolls an 8 or above, but no more than 12, on a skill check, you cause fire to envelop them as a reaction, dealing 1d6 fire damage. (You do not automatically know if a roll is within the specified range, but may attempt to cast the spell an unlimited number of times without consuming a spell slot until successful.)

Drenching Purr (Level 1)—A rumbling, cat-like purr emanates from the sky and douses an area with a 5 foot radius in a downpour of water that lasts 2 minutes.

Steely Hiatus (Level 3)—You cause a creature you can touch to be outlined in a gleaming, steel-like layer of magic. For the next 5 minutes or until your concentration is broken, the creature cannot attack, move, take any action or bonus action, be affected by magic, or be damaged even when hit, but can react to being hit and respond to others when spoken to.

Cinder Pain (Cantrip)—As a bonus action, you light a cinder on the skin of a creature within 15 feet, dealing one point of fire damage and breaking their concentration.

Butterflying Charm (Cantrip)—You touch any willing creature or object. For the next 12 hours, butterflies are attracted to the creature or object and will fly around and land on it.

Immobilizing Sizzle (Level 2)—You select an entity within 15 feet of you. For the next 3 minutes, they take 1d4 fire damage per turn and their movement drops to 0.

Counterstrike Feldspar (Level 1)—As a reaction, you enchant a piece of feldspar and propel it at an enemy that has hit you or an ally, dealing 1d12 bludgeoning damage.

Stormy Doom (Level 1)—You summon dark clouds around yourself, causing unfriendly entities that can see you to make Charisma saving throws with a DC equal to your spell save DC. If failing, they become frightened by you until your next turn.

Pillar Striking (Level 5)—Using a piece of workable stone such as granite or marble, which the spell consumes, you can summon a large pillar that can be propelled at an entity within 50 feet of you. If hit, the entity takes 5d10 bludgeoning damage. The pillar immediately crumbles to dust and disappears after striking.

Gargled Greenery (Level 1)—You touch a leaf or stem from any plant, which the spell consumes, and select an entity within 10 feet of you. That entity begins sprouting leaves of the type corresponding to the plant you use as a spell component and begins choking until they dislodge the leaves, until their hit points drop to 0, or until you end the spell.

Dysfunctional Mandolin (Level 1)—You enchant a normal mandolin to be exclusively capable of playing music inappropriate for the tone of any given moment. During sad or somber occasions, the mandolin plays bawdy, upbeat tunes; on happy occasions, it can only play slow, sad songs, and when quiet or restful music is called for, it can only play loud and disruptive songs. A person touching, holding or playing the mandolin believes its tunes to be fully appropriate for the circumstance, and is incapable of admitting otherwise without blame, guilt-tripping or other dysfunctional behaviors. The enchantment lasts 72 hours.

Tempest Obsidian (Level 6)—You use a piece of obsidian, which the spell consumes, to summon a black thundercloud over an area with a radius of 50 feet, from which descends a destructive hail of volcanic glass, lasting 18 minutes. Every entity beginning their turn in the storm cloud must make a Dexterity saving throw (DC:12) or take 2d10 piercing damage from obsidian shards.

Sedative Coupon (Level 1)—You spend several hours mulling over an abstruse ritual, ending with you writing several obscure symbols on a small piece of paper or other material that can be written upon. You then spill some blood onto the ground and drop the writing into a portal that appears before you to a hellish dimension, where it is accepted by an unknown entity that bestows upon you the ability to relieve the suffering of a creature you can touch, healing 1d10 hit points and inducing peaceful sleep. If any other object is dropped into the portal, a clawed hand will emerge from the portal and attempt to drain all the blood in your body as payment, but you can prevent this by mentally ending the spell.

Stupefying Tether (Level 1)—You enchant a length of ordinary rope. For 8 minutes, any entity that is restrained with the rope has disadvantage on Wisdom and Intelligence checks and saving throws.

Immediate Sunflower (Cantrip)—You drop a sunflower seed on the ground. It immediately grows into a mature sunflower.

Unfaithful Likeness (Level 1)—You roll a d6 and manifest a spectral image of a person you choose. According to your roll, the likeness is unfaithful in one of the following ways: 1—It is accurate, except the likeness exaggerates one or more of their prominent features, like a mean-spirited caricature. 2—It is accurate, except the likeness makes the person much more attractive than they normally are. 3—The likeness’s skin tone, hair color, and eye color are all noticeably different from what it actually is like. 4—The likeness is accurate, except the person is shown wearing clothes they would never actually wear. 5—The likeness is accurate, except the person appears significantly taller or shorter than they actually are. 6—The likeness is not accurate at all, and instead depicts a seemingly random person. This image lasts 6 minutes or until you end the spell.

Folly Recirculating (Cantrip)—Once per long rest, when an entity you can see is attempting a skill check that another entity has already failed, you can cause the failing roll to be repeated. This still causes the same outcome if the new entity possesses different bonuses that would cause a different outcome than the original.

Antagonizing Pseudopod (Level 2)—A portal opens within a ten-foot range of you, from which protrudes a fleshy pseudopod. This appendage pokes, annoys, and harasses an entity within 5 feet of it that you select, giving it disadvantage on all saving throws and -2 to ability checks for one minute. The pseudopod has an AC of 19. If it is hit, the spell ends; if an attempt to hit misses, the pseudopod retreats into the portal for one turn unharmed.

Falsifying Moaning (Level 1)—For the next 10 minutes, whenever an ally within 10 feet of you attempts a Deception roll, moaning voices appear that support the deceptive statements or actions, granting a +5 bonus to the Deception rolls. The moans are unpleasant and cause everyone in the vicinity to feel uncomfortable, but have no harmful effects.

Exhuming Vine (Level 1)—You cause a vine to grow up from the ground at your feet, dragging up in its entangling tendrils any bones buried within a 10 foot radius of you (up to 10 feet underground)

Downgrading Mist (Level 2)—Summons a cloud of mist in a sphere with a 30-foot radius centered on the caster. All weapons within the cloud have their damage debuffed by -2, and all other magic items which cause bonuses to rolls have their bonuses debuffed by -1.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #dnd homebrew #dnd spells #d&d #d&d homebrew #spells #magic #homebrew #long post

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redwinterroses · 2 years

Text

“Alright now—Pearl? Pearl.” Scar stopped in the path and put his hands on Pearl’s shoulders, stopping her. He had to look up a bit to meet her eyes—which, as always, were sparkling with mirth.

“Come on, Scar. Are you going to show me whatever this is or what?” There was a smile in her words and tugging at the corners of her mouth, and Scar grimaced. He hadn’t exactly explained anything, just said “Pearl can you come see something real quick” and she doubtless thought this was a run-of-the-mill Boatem prank. He forced his face into an approximation of his usual confident grin.

“Of course I’m gonna show you! It’s just… you know.” He released her shoulders and gave her arm a light, teasing punch. “I just need you to promise not to… freak out.”

“Why would I freak out?” Pearl peered at him more closely, her amusement finally fading. “Scar, are you okay?”

He… wasn’t going to answer that. “Just… just don’t overreact, okay?” Turning around, he took a deep breath and stepped into the shadow of Midnight Alley.

“Grian?” His voice echoed in the shadows. “I’ve got Pearl with me… we’re coming in, okay?”

Nothing moved other than the flicker of candles in the faint breeze, and Scar glanced back at Pearl, whose brow was slightly furrowed. “He’s, ah… he’s back there, somewhere,” he said. “Come on.”

They ventured further into the darkness. Which felt… thicker? It almost had a texture—something wispy and dry that got caught in Scar’s throat and made him cough. And the quiet… it was a lack of sound, but more than that it was as if any sound they made was swallowed up by a larger, hungrier silence. A pang of nervousness shot through Scar. He’d left Grian alone—what if he was in danger?

Some friend he was.

“Pearl, I think—”

“Stop.”

Pearl’s voice was tight, and when he turned to look at her she was pale—even more so than normal, her freckles standing out starkly against white cheeks—and her sword was drawn.

He held up his hands placatingly. “Whoa! What is—”

She grabbed his arm and tugged him back. “Scar, get behind me.”

“No, no, no—it’s just—”

“Scar, don’t argue.” He met her eyes and was taken aback to find them wide with fear. But the set of her mouth was hard and determined. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with. Get. Behind. Me.”

Scar swallowed. He wanted to protest, but the cobwebs in his lungs and the increasing feeling of wrongness in the Alley weighed on his shoulders like a suffocating blanket. And—to be fair. Pearl was scary.

Meekly, he stepped back and let Pearl lead the way, the enchantments on her blade casting a shifting violet glow on the cobbles at their feet. They moved deeper into the narrowing confines of Midnight Alley, and with every step Scar was more sure: something was very wrong, and he had left Grian behind.

He almost didn’t stop in time when Pearl came to an abrupt halt, a sharp breath hissing between her teeth. Scar looked around her—

And his brain stopped.

Something hovered in the air. The something was… massive. Too big for the space. Too big to comprehend, his mind forcing it into something smaller that he could process. It was a swirling cloud of purple and white, pulsing with void-energy that needled into Scar’s skull and fuzzed static around his vision. It was… it was a black hole. It was a mist. It was a flaming comet hurtling toward the earth. It was an explosion of silence. It was wings, and it was eyes, and it was looming over an unmoving Mumbo Jumbo.

Scar’s feet were locked to the pavement, and hands were curled into fists so tight he could feel blood stinging from half-moon cuts where his fingernails dug into his palms. His lungs were frozen, every instinct in his bones was screaming for him to run, that this wasn’t something meant to be seen by mortals, that he couldn’t breathe, that he was going to die, that Pearl was going to die, that Mumbo was already dead—

And then he saw the red in the midst of the storm.

He could never be sure that he had actually seen the creature’s body, or if his oxygen-starved brain fabricated what it wanted to see, but he did see it: the tattered remains of a red sweater tangled and scattering in the center of the being’s form.

He still couldn’t breathe.

“You!” Pearl shouted, raising her sword. Scar wasn’t sure exactly what a sword was supposed to do in this situation, but he didn’t exactly have the energy to stop her. Even as she stepped forward, his left knee gave out and he fell to the ground, barely catching himself and raising one hand to paw at his throat.

“Pearl—” he tried to rasp, but she didn’t hear him.

“Watcher!” Pearl’s voice cut sharply through the sound-swallowing air and the creature’s head snapped toward her, its face a spinning mass of eyes and teeth and something that looked like fear.

Pearl took a step, leaning forward as if into a driving wind. “You’re not welcome here!” she shouted. “Your kind have no power in this world.”

“Pearl—” Scar managed to gasp in a shallow breath, the name coming out more as a rasp than a word.

“I’m giving you one chance to leave in peace.” The creature hissed—and it was like a thousand nails scraping across a thousand glass panes. “Go!” Pearl shouted. “Or I’ll really give you something to watch!”

“Pearl!”

The creature lunged forward, its wings sweeping down. Windows shattered in the sudden vacuum, candles blowing out and leaving them in darkness lit only by a few soul lanterns and the gleam of Pearl’s sword. It snaked its face down toward Pearl, the onyx eyes shifting and morphing above a mouth that was nothing but emptiness and the burnt-ozone stench of the Void. It screamed, and the sound was a shattering symphony of terror and rage and pain.

Pearl’s hair was blasted back by the force of the roar, and she swung her sword back, ready to strike. “Alright—you asked for it, you bird-brained, overgrown—”

“Pearl!” Scar finally managed to drag a full breath into his laboring lungs and grabbed the back of her hoodie. She whirled on him.

“What, Scar!?”

He flapped a weak hand at the looming creature. “That’s Grian,” he managed, before a coughing fit doubled him over.

Pearl froze.

The creature didn’t move.

She lowered her sword.

“Oh, nuggets.”

#creacher grian au #hey haha look more eldritch creacher grian #redwinterwrites #grian #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft #I'll reblog this with links to the other parts later #for now they should all be under that first tag

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years

Text

Take You Away || Bucky

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You and Bucky are friends from work. You are a chef at the Avengers Compound and you see him every day but after a while he becomes suspicious of your home life and sets out to save from the abuse you receive. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, domestic violence (abusive boyfriend, mentions of an abusive father), injuries, fluff, WC: 4451

main masterlist || bucky masterlist || part one || part two

The end of your pen was a sharp mess of twisted plastic by the time you had finished chewing on it. The added responsibility of stock taking the kitchen was adding more pressure to your already busy day and you still needed to get the food order sent for the menu next week. The head chef was on leave and thought you had been there long enough that you could handle it on your own, you had thought so too.

Banana blueberry muffins. You still had to make them and breakfast would open in less than an hour. Rushing out of the storeroom you crashed into a wall of muscle that you hadn’t expected to find in the galley. Your face hit his shoulder and you groaned as the metal hit your already sore cheekbone. His face blanched as he heard your whimper and his arms gently caught your shoulders as he apologised profusely for hurting you.

“It’s fine, Bucky.” You said with a small smile, trying not to rub away the makeup on your face. “I’m more surprised than anything. Were you looking for something I could help with?”

He blinked as if he forgot what he was there for before nodding. “Coffee, please, I’ve run out.”

You turned around and ducked back into the storeroom to grab a packet of instant coffee that was used on each individual floor's kitchenette. Bucky always seemed to go through more than anyone else and it was probably to do with how early he rose each day. You grabbed two just to save him the trip down to the cafeteria later in the week and handed them over with a smile.

“Oh shit.” He gasped as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes widened with panic as he saw the bruise under your foundation and you brushed his touch aside. You turned away so you had space to breathe and waved his apology off the best you could. “It’s fine, nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not fine, I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, I just bruise easily.” Your eyes misted at the guilt lacing his voice and you wanted to admit the truth so he didn’t feel bad but you couldn’t. “I’m really busy this morning, was there anything else I could get you, Bucky?”

He shook his head sadly and retreated from the kitchen, a dark cloud hanging over him as he left. You felt terrible that you had caused it and you wiped your eyes before composing yourself, you had got yourself through a lot worse by pretending you were fine and you could do it once again. By the time the muffins were ready you had almost forgotten the event completely and the cafeteria opened for everyone at the compound.

Laughter and smiles filled the tables but there was one noticeable absence that you knew you were responsible for. Handing control over to the chef de partie, you tossed your apron over your hook and filled a plate of food before leaving the kitchen. The gym was almost empty since everyone was at breakfast but there was one man at the back, taking his anger out on a punching bag. You knew he heard the door close from the way he froze before continuing the assault.

“I, um, thought you might be hungry.” You murmured as you held out the plate to him.

“I already ate.” He grumbled between punches.

“No, you didn’t.” You said as you took a seat on a bench and placed the plate beside you. “I just got the order forms from your floor, you haven’t used anything from the kitchen. Just coffee.”

He sighed and dropped his hands to his sides, sweat glistening across his forehead. “You’re not going to leave until I eat are you.”

“It’s literally my job to make sure you are well fed.” You shrugged and pushed the plate closer to him. “It’s your favourite. You don’t want me to get fired do you?”

It was a low blow since he was already feeling guilty but he knew you wouldn’t get fired over something trivial like that, at least you hoped he did. His strides were slow as he grabbed a towel and wiped away his sweat before sitting down, looking at the plate piled high with food.

“How do you know it’s my favourite?” He asked as he picked up the muffin.

“It’s the only flavour you grab two of.” You smiled before your phoned rang in your pocket and your face fell, the personalised tone letting you know exactly who it was calling. “I should get going.”

“Everything alright?” He frowned at the change in your mood and you mentally slapped yourself for letting anything show.

“Just the usual stress and chaos in the kitchen.” You joked and rose to make your way to the door.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m pretty good at listening.” Bucky offered with a shrug.

“Thanks, Buck, I’ll keep that in mind.” You said before the phone rang again and you rushed to make it back to the kitchen.

Your shift had ended five minutes ago and your boyfriend was impatient at the best of times so keeping him waiting was not a smart move. You hurried your way through the kitchen that was being cleaned down and ready for the lunch team to begin preparing their meal. You waved to a few of the chefs on the way to grab your bag and reminded them you would be back for the dinner shift later. The split shifts weren’t ideal but until the head chef returned you would just make do.

“I’ve been waiting fucking 20 minutes.” Justin growled as you got in the passenger side.

It hadn’t been 20 minutes but you were not going to correct him as he started the engine and pulled out of the compound way too fast. “Sorry.”

“I’ve got the boys coming over for the game tonight. You can make it up to me by cooking us something good.”

“I’m working tonight.” You reminded him weakly.

“Does it look like I give a fuck?” He said, looking away from the road to stare at you. “Figure it out.”

“Alright.” You dropped your head to the cold window beside your head, trying to get a few minutes of rest before you got home.

You were completely exhausted as you reached the kitchen. You had planned on resting between shifts but instead you had made a feast for Justin and his friends and prayed he followed the reheating instructions you left. Stifling another yawn at being awake for 13 hours already, you hung up your bag and grabbed your apron, four more and you could go home to bed.

There was nothing you wanted more than to rest your sore feet but as you left the compound you found the car park dark and empty. You should have known he would have forgotten to pick you up, in fact he was probably drunk so it was best he didn’t drive. Gripping your bag closer to your side, you started making your way to the security gate only to see a pair of headlights illuminate the night.

“Y/n, hope in.” Bucky ordered as he pulled up beside you with his window down. “And don’t even try to argue, I’m not letting you walk home in the middle of the night.”

You looked at the gate that was still so far away and you knew there was no way you could decline his offer. With a small smile you walked around the car and he pushed the door open for you to climb in. The ride was quiet but it was the nice type of quiet, something you rarely got to have and you almost fell asleep it was so peaceful.

“It’s just up here on the left.” You said quietly, embarrassed about him seeing the rundown trailer that you called home.

He came to a stop outside one of the nicer homes on the street and you grabbed your bag from the floor. “Thank you for the ride, Bucky, I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem, any time.” He smiled sincerely before seeing a group of men stumble down the footpath, angry shouts about the losing team they had supported. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary.” You assured him but he wasn’t having it and the car was already turned off. Placing your hand on his arm, you turned your eyes to his and hoped he saw your silent pleas. “It’s not necessary, Bucky.”

His lip was pinched between his teeth and he waited until the men had gone past the car before he nodded begrudgingly. “Ok, but give me your phone.”

You handed it over, knowing how stubborn the man was, and he messaged himself before giving it back. “Text me when you’re safe inside.”

You thanked him once again as you got out and walked quietly up the porch steps with a wave. Your sigh of relief was heavy as you watched his car disappear around the corner and you sent a message to him as you walked down the street to your home, his reply coming back almost instantly.

Bucky: Anytime you need a ride just let me know.

You left his message on read as you unlocked the door and heard the loud snores of Justin asleep on the couch with empty beer cans scattered over the coffee table. Even though you could barely keep your eyes open you knew he would be angry if he woke up to the mess so you quietly collected the rubbish and cleaned the sink full of dirty plates. You didn’t even take the time to wash the smell of cooking from your skin before you went to bed and instantly fell asleep.

A sharp slap to your cheek woke you with a cry of pain and you found Justin towering over you with your phone in his hand, Bucky’s message on the screen. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Your cheek was burning and tears were stinging your eyes as you shook your head rapidly. “Just someone from work, they dropped me off because you didn’t pick me up.”

“Don’t put this on me.” He spat. “Are you fucking him? You are, aren’t you?”

The back of his hand struck out but you managed to protect your face from the hit, the big cheap ring on his finger cutting across your forearm instead. Your scream was muffled by the squeeze of his hand over your mouth and you whimpered until he let you go.

“I’m not, baby, I would never cheat on you. I just couldn’t walk all the way home.” You pleaded for him to listen as his hands trembled and carefully reached out to take his hands in yours. You could see his eyes were bloodshot and the stench of stale beer turned your stomach but you had to calm him down, any way possible. Pulling him into the bed with you, you turned your face away from the sloppy kisses and apologies he whispered against your skin, letting him have his way until he collapsed back to sleep on his side. You slipped from the bed as his snores filled the room and showered away his touch.

The bruise on your cheek was almost gone but now you had the angry cut on your forearm that you needed to clean and cover before it got infected. The rubbing alcohol stung and you bit your lip to avoid crying out and possibly waking Justin, the whimpers bouncing off the tiny stall that could barely fit the shower and toilet. It was still dark outside and you thought about taking the car but if Justin woke before you got back from the breakfast shift you knew you would pay dearly for it, and you didn't have a licence, so you put on a pair of sneakers and began the long walk to the compound.

You covered your elbow over your mouth as you hid another yawn and found Bucky’s eyes narrowing in on the bandage covering your forearm. “What happened?”

Your exhaustion was making you more susceptible to tears and you worked hard to be nonchalant as you laughed it off. “I burnt it when I was getting the muffins out of the oven.”

“I didn’t see you getting dropped off this morning.”

You shrugged off his concern and busied yourself topping up the bacon that was always a favourite. “I didn’t realise you were keeping such a close eye on me.”

“You’re my friend, and I don’t really sleep so I keep watch of who comes and goes.” He said defensively, as if you had shouted to the entire cafeteria that he was a stalker.

“I appreciate the concern, but I chose to walk this morning.” You lied smoothly, or at least thought you did. These were trained professionals who regularly interrogated people for their job but you had been lying to yourself for years. He still looked concerned but added the fresh bacon to his plate and chewed on a strip of the crispy protein as he watched you walk away.

Fear consumed you as you stepped over the threshold and saw Justin waiting, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed over his chest. You had tried to dissuade Bucky from giving you a ride home when Justin failed to show but it was raining and he would not leave it be. Your shadow was cast against the wall as Bucky reversed out of your drive, and you were already feeling ill that he had seen where you really lived.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not much to look at.” You had whispered quietly when you had shown where you lived and not the house he had previously dropped you off.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, doll. I grew up in a shoebox and had to share a room with my little sister until I was 20.” He reassured you, your heart hammering at the casual endearment that shouldn't have affected you as much as it did.

Your shadow disappeared and all you were left with was the looming mass of Justin stepping closer, your body seeming to shrink as he leant past you and closed the door. The smell of cigarettes and weed clung to his clothes while whiskey tainted his breath and you wished you could run back out into the rain and beg Bucky to stop. You didn’t even feel the first hit or the second, there was a place you had created deep in your mind and that was where you went on nights like this.

The cold water of the shower ran over your face and hid the tears that stung your cuts as you sat on the floor beneath the spray. There was nothing more you wanted to do than walk out of this shower, walk out of this trailer and out of Justin’s life but he controlled everything. You couldn’t even go to the shops without his permission, you didn’t even have your own bank cards, he controlled your life.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when he banged loudly against the door and you shut the water off quickly. There was no way you could go to work looking like you did and you turned away from the foggy mirror to slink into the bedroom and find some loose clothing. You only had one objective and that was to avoid any confrontation and let your wounds heal. You searched for your phone to call in sick but you couldn’t find it anywhere.

“Jus, have you seen my phone?” You asked as you limped to the living room and found him scrolling through your device.

“Why? So you can message Bucky?” He growled.

“I need to tell work I won’t be in.”

You kept your eyes trained on the floor and for a second he held the phone out but before you could wrap your fingers around it he dropped it to the floor, the screen shattering on impact. “Oops.”

You swiped it off the ground and hurried back to the bedroom, hoping it still worked but the screen was completely dead. You knew Justin would never let you touch his phone so you just hoped you still had a job when the swelling went down and you could hide everything under a thick layer of foundation.

“Hey, have you seen y/n?” Bucky asked the chef’s rushing around the galley.

A round of no’s circulated the kitchen and his frown deepened as he called your number and heard it go to voicemail once again. Leaving the cafeteria he went into the administration wing and found Pepper leaving her office.

“Good morning, Mrs Stark.”

“Hi Bucky,” she smiled, “you look a little lost. Who are you looking for?”

Bucky scratched his neck as he looked around the mostly empty office space, but it was still too early for most people to start work. “I was wondering where y/n was.”

“The kitchens I should assume.” She chuckled.

“She didn’t show up today.”

Pepper’s eyebrows knitted together as she knew no one had called through the office in the time she had been in, which was earlier than everyone else. “That’s strange for her. Let me try to call her, just give me a minute.”

She started to turn back to her office but Bucky stopped her. “I tried, it keeps going to voicemail.”

“Well I’m not sure how else I can help, sorry, we don’t have an address for her or I’d send Happy to check on her.”

“What?”

“Yeah, HR has been chasing her up for months about it but…I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

The pit in Bucky’s stomach was getting heavier with each word out of Pepper’s mouth and he was already heading back to the elevator before she had finished, looking confused by his sudden departure. His fingers were nearly bending the car key he fiddled with as he made his way down to the garage and sped out of the compound. He told himself you were fine, you might be sick and resting, your phone left unplugged from the charger and had died while you were sleeping. But a stronger instinct in him told him something was wrong.

He skidded to a halt in your driveway, his boots stomping loudly up the warped wooden steps before his fist knocked on the trailer door. He could hear whispers inside but couldn’t quite make out what was being said before the door opened and Justin filled the doorway. You had seen the sleek black car pulling in and been sent to the bedroom where you wouldn’t be seen before Justin had opened the door.

“Where is she?” Bucky growled.

“What’s it matter to you? Get your own whore.”

Justin’s insult hurt but it was Bucky’s laugh that you found crushing as you buried your face in your pillow to catch the tears escaping your body. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this little punk.”

A crash sent your heart racing and you heard groaning before more of your little house sounded like it was being destroyed. You slipped from the bed and hid beneath your blanket in the furthest corner of the room, covering your ears as the violence escalated just like your mom taught you. You screwed your eyes shut and tried to remember the songs she used to hum to calm you down but the panic kept rising, she wasn’t here to distract you and she wasn’t here to be the distraction like she was with your fathers anger.

“Y/n?” Bucky’s voice called out. “Where are you, doll?”

You lowered the blanket slowly, just enough so you could see him standing in the doorway to your bedroom, his chest puffing from the short fight. You couldn’t see Justin anywhere. He caught sight of your movement and rounded the bed, his hand held out as you pressed yourself further back into the wall.

“Hey, hey, it's okay, beautiful.” He said softly. “Can I see your smile? I missed it this morning.”

You swallowed deeply, refusing to show him the bruises and the split lip Justin had inflicted. “You should just go.”

“Not without you.” He said with a shake of his head and crouched down to your height. “I’m going to take the blanket now, okay.”

His movements were slow as he reached out and you gripped the frayed edges tighter for a moment before you saw your timid reflection in his eyes. This was the man who had been shy and quiet when you met but you had watched him grow into this man in front of you. If he could overcome the violence he had endured, then maybe there was hope for you. Letting go of the blanket, you saw his eyes harden and you flinched away.

“I’m not going to hurt you, y/n. I’m not angry at you.” He promised before looking back at the door and pulling his phone from his pocket. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You could hear him talking but it was too quiet to hear and in less than 60 seconds he had returned with his hand out to you. “Can I help you up?”

You placed your hand in his and he helped you to stand, noticing the wince as you put weight on your leg and his arm curled around your waist to pull you into his side. “I’ve got you. I’m going to take you away from here, doll.”

“I have nowhere to go.” You muttered.

“Now you do.” He gently turned your head into the curve of his neck as you left the room and he hid the destruction from your sight. “You shouldn’t have to see this.”

By the time he had got you sat safely in his car you saw the Falcon land on your small patch of lawn and Bucky pointed inside your home. They didn’t need to communicate anything else, even with the tinted windows it was clear to see what had happened and Sam looked almost as angry as Bucky did. He looked like he was going to slam his car door shut as he hopped in the driver's seat but at the last moment he caught it and quietly closed it.

“Is there anything important you need Sam to find?” Bucky asked as he started the car but you shook your head.

“I don’t have anything.” You admitted as you clung to your seatbelt. “Just my clothes.”

“No family photos?”

You shook your head, you weren’t allowed to keep anything and you had stopped trying after he destroyed what little you had. You sank low into your seat as Bucky pulled into the compound and the gates opened automatically for him. You didn’t want anyone else to see you like this, you didn’t want the questions that came with it so when he came to a stop in the basement you weren’t ready to move.

“You can have my room. The bed might as well get used by someone.” He offered as he sat along with you after turning the car off.

“Why are you being so nice?”

It sounded ruder when you asked it out loud but it was pure curiosity and he turned in his seat so his body was facing you.

“You used to leave meatloaf in the fridge on my floor. It took me a while to realise it wasn’t on anyone else's.” He answered with a small smile. “I wasn’t ready to handle being around so many people in the mess hall but you were the only one who noticed. You went out of your way to be nice to me when no one else did. You deserve someone who treats you like royalty, doll.”

Tears spilled down your face as every thought in your head told you it was just another mind fuck and he sighed as he saw you weren’t ready to hear the truth yet. The thing with Bucky was he had time and he had patience, he was willing to spend both on you until you saw what he did. Getting out, he walked around the car and opened your door.

“No one will bother you here.” He said as he held his hand out to you. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You looked around and found the basement empty before taking his hand, taking a small amount of comfort as he laced his fingers loosely in yours. “Friday, 4th floor, and no stops.”

Bucky stuck his head out into the 4th floor, finding it empty, before he led you to his room and opened his door. You stepped inside before feeling his fingers slip from yours and he stayed in the doorway. Your eyebrows pinched as you wondered why he stopped.

“Is there anything I can get you?” He asked as he checked he had left his room tidy that morning.

“I…” You looked around the unfamiliar space that was uniquely his until you were back facing him. “I…don't want to be…left alone.”

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, hanging his jacket up on the hook behind the door. His boots were kicked off next and he lined them up beside his other pairs at the bottom of his closet before turning the blankets down and taking a seat against his headboard. “Do you want to watch some tv?”

You nodded and took your own shoes off, placing them next to his and climbed onto the other side of the bed. The mattress was so much softer than yours and he pulled the blankets up over your legs, the fluffy sheets quickly reminding you how numb you had been and you shivered as your body came out of the shock you were in. You apologised as you jumped at his touch but you quickly relaxed under his arm that he placed protectively over your shoulder.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt safe in someone's arms, perhaps it was something you hadn’t experienced until you felt him pull you closer. You could finally relax, you were safe and your body and soul knew it as years of exhaustion caught up with you. Your eyes were closing before he had even found a film to watch and your head lolled into the crook of his neck. The last thing you felt before you were pulled into a peaceful sleep was a whisper in a language you didn’t recognise and the soft touch of his lips on your forehead.

Click here for part two.

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mysweetpoisons · 2 years

Text

Moonlight trap

Pairing: SoftDark! Bruce Wayne x fem-reader

Summary: chasing freedom is no easy feat when the bat is after you

Warnings: NON-CON/ DUB-CON, +18, this is a dark!fic, contains implied kidnapping, smut, possibly soft-dark category.

A/N: I know a lot of people do not enjoy this kind of content so please READ THE WARNINGS, by clicking in read more you are admitting to be +18 and by that consenting this kind of content. Remember that your media consumption it's your own responsibility.

I think I have tagged everything correctly, if anyone has any more additional tags or warnings let me know.

Word count: 3079

The trees welcomed you as one of the long lost children from the fairy tales. Those were the fairy folk used to swap babies for their indulgence, their humour as sharp as their pointy ears.

You were a few feet into the forest, feeling the mattress of fallen leaves and earth between your toes as the branches continued to close in. They seemed to embrace your figure as if they wanted to take you away from the mansion standing at your back.

For the trees knew that the mansion was haunted by a monster, a monster that came alive at night and it will soon follow you.

Strangely, it was a clear night. The dark sky was lightened by the stars, their soft glow often holding good omens. But, the moon was out too. Looming proudly above your head, she was ruling over the blackness with a dangerous fullness, its roundness a curse, the songs had warned.

Your dark gown kept streaming around your legs moulding shapeless forms while your feet made their way through the rugged path as you stole one last look back at your high-fashioned prison. The glooming shadowed construction was growing smaller by the second, its aura becoming less and less suffocating from here.

Scenes of glimmering jewellery, lonely dinners for two, sleepless nights and wordless cries between silk sheets, danced behind your eyelids as Wayne Manor stared back at you. The billionaire had tried to sugarcoat your forced stay with noxiously corrupting luxury.

You had never escaped anyone before. That didn't mean you weren't going to try, though.

Turning watchful eyes towards your surroundings had proved futile at first. Everywhere you went you would find that dark vigilant gaze posed hungrily on you. So you waited and played his game. As time passed your tamed behaviour seemed to pay off: he started leaving at night, sometimes even in the middle of the day.

You had found the cave a few weeks ago, and the tunnel shortly after. A breeze had carried the smell of fresh pine needles and watered earth, marking it as the right one. Fate had thrown a bone at you.

Although, the aftereffects of unearthing such a secret hadn't been kind to you.

After finding you in the claws of the man that had half of this rotten city inside his pocket, you had thought there was still a chance to escape, a lingering tendril of hope in the form of a bat.

Knowledge hadn't felt like a gift when you learned that the only person who could give you back your freedom was the one that had snatched it in the first place.

It took you a couple of days to realize what you had always known, that in this life there was only one person who you could rely on: you.

You weren't a fool, you knew you couldn't hope to smart him. Still, the only way of leaving was trying. Besides, the idea was far better than growing into the submissive creature you were becoming. The lines had blurred dangerously and your mind had lost its focus.

Planning and following your exit had been quick. Like any other night, you had waited for him to watch you fall asleep and counted exactly 20 minutes since his departure to get up and head straight to the cave and your awaiting freedom.

So here you were dodging branches with rapid but determined movements, breathing through your nose in focused motions while your heart beat fast as the wings of a little bird would inside your ribcage and dainty mist clouded the wooded path, snaking between your limbs like a purring cat.

Wilderness's duality was intriguing. The forest was a combination of the softness of the caressing leaves of musk covered trees and the stinging edges of the pine needles, rocks and twisted roots.

Life was so evident in this place that it seemed to float around the air, such a stark contrast from the sterile and white halls you had left far behind.

The life pouring out from every cell of the trees and creatures fed you. Even the tiny cuts and scratches filled with simmering pain were welcomed gratefully. Because, as your lungs burnt and your muscles hurt, the stubborn truth couldn't be subdued. For the first time in months, this was the moment you were feeling entirely alive.

Wintry wind hollered through the trees and you knew you should have shrivelled. You would have felt it if the highly intoxicating euphoria stopped cursing through your veins, if freedom wasn't seducing your body into forgetting that you wouldn't reach it, not yet.

Something cracked at your back. Then a shadow descended. The sudden movement sent you crumbling to the ground, your fall ungracefully stopped by your hands. When you looked up it took you a few moments to adjust your gaze and fix it on the shadow that was now perched in the tree in front of you peeking at you with one of its black eyes: it was a raven.

You stood there a second too long, admiring the shiny blackness of the bird's plumage, wondering how your life had become an old horror movie.

What did the raven's presence mean?

Primal awareness invaded your senses, taking your mind back to the present and screaming at you to pay attention. The forest had turned quiet, serene. Too quiet.

At first, you felt it rather than hear or see it. A change in the atmosphere, a dreadful presence drowning you. It was the hot breath of the big bad wolf, dampening your nape.

And that's how you know: the bat had arrived. The stars had lied, the moon had won.

You instinctively rolled and took cover behind the raven tree. Pressing your back to the hard bark you tried to conceal your frame, making your best impression of the rocks that littered the wood's path. Your breath was knocked off your chest as the soft scraping of his footsteps was now noticeable, passing the place where you guessed you had been just a mere seconds ago. Luckily, the rustling of leaves faded, carrying on and away from your hiding spot.

The entire time you hadn't dared to look, focusing on your feet and wishing to become invisible.

You waited a few breaths before you slowly ducked your head from your hiding spot and sprinted, taking the opposite path of his vanishing steps.

Adrenaline fuelled your movements as you tried to find the buzzing sound of running water you had been following.

You were taking a swift turn upon a fallen tree only to be cut out short. Standing a few feet away in a semicircle where the foliage was less dense, was a cloaked figure, waiting for you. The large shadow was night incarnated as if the dark sky itself had given birth. A child of darkness that had come to hunt you, to take you back.

Fear rattled your bones as you beheld the outline of his imposing armour, the same image that had stuck in your head, appearing in petrifying nightmares since that very first time in the cave. The worst part was his mask, where the two seemingly black orbs were, an endless pit of terrors for Gotham's thugs.

The air around charged, your entire body was seized by silent dread, incapable of moving.

He was the one who snapped first by striding forward and removing his mask forcefully, letting it fall to the ground.

A ray of moonlight lightened his face then, his chiselled factions forming hard lines, accentuated by the clenching of his jaw and his chocolate hair brushed back.

The face staring in your bad dreams, the bringer of misery and bliss.

His dark alluring eyes instantly locked with yours and narrowed.

"You don't look surprised" he observed. If you didn't know better you would have said there was disappointment in his voice.

He is just a man

The mantra was chanted inside your head, as you squared your shoulders and rightened your stance.

"I found the cave" your voice sounded agitated, still struggling to center your feet and stand your ground.

His brows knitted in a frown and his lips thinned, something like wonder flashing through his features.

"And yet, you decided to run"

He released an irritated sigh and you knew what was to be expected, the insufferable preaching that would be delivered next:

" Where were you running to? Where? There's no place in this world for you to hide. Anywhere you had chosen I would have found you and brought you back. When are you going to learn? Nothing..-no one can keep me from you "

Your snort interrupted the rest of his speech.

"Are you done?" your chin lifted, unrelentingly staring at him as you continued "Stop pretending. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. You wanted this." your arms punctuated, outstretched hands signalling the space around.

"All I want is for you to understan-"

You shook your head, swallowing the already forming impotence and rage.

"Don't you dare to-" you paused, having to swallow again the knot in your throat to regain your voice " You've planned this. You wanted me to escape just so you could catch me like the common thieves you lock up daily. I know I wouldn't get here if you didn't want it. You're even wearing the suit." by now you could feel the wet trail of rage tears on your cheeks "So don't pretend. Stop toying with me, Bruce. This is just another excuse so you can fuck me in your sick costume"

For a moment Bruce Wayne is rendered speechless. Then a satisfied grin spread his lips, he could only feel more interested in you. His clever girl had caught him once again.

"You have no idea how much I love that fiery mouth of yours"

More shadows wrapped your frame as he took long purposeful steps, his figure looming over yours and stealing the soft moonlight away.

"I planned to show you that you are mine, I admit that. But to be entirely honest with you my love, I hadn't planned on enjoying it this much." His tone was huskier, his current grin turning dark and fuck, you knew that look. His pupils dilated and burnt in sinister flames, the look of the predator beneath the man.

"You haven't been yourself lately, a good girl yes, but still… I wondered where all that fierceness had gone. I missed you"

When he came unbearably closer, you slid sideways out of his reach, your lips parted in warning:

"Get away from me"

He ceased his hunting steps and lifted both of his gloved hands as if he was trying to appease an injured animal.

"But how can I?"

You sprinted backwards, blindly taking a path. Or so you tried. You would never be a match to his speed and inhuman prowess. You took the first step and then failed the next, your feet losing earth contact as your entire body was lifted, two strong arms enveloping your frame from behind and hauling you against a firm chest like you weighed nothing. A gasp fled your mouth while words were groaned at your nape "Honey, I can't even breathe without you."

In the blink of an eye, your body was turned around in a dizzying spin and you were facing him again, pinned against the nearest tree.

Instinctively, your hands jabbed his chest armour, the muscle carving was hard as steel and a loyal portrayal of what lay underneath, so it obviously didn't budge a single inch.

"Stop that, you're gonna hurt yourself" he scolded, waving your fists away like flies as they continued to punch his torso.

Swifter than lighting, he held both of your wrists in one hand and fixed them above your head with something that pierced the wood behind you and squeezed your limbs like a boa.

A wave of helplessness crashed over, the reality of the situation sinking in.

You didn't have the stomach to look at him. Defeated, you faced the sky instead, asking the stars, the moon and the universe beyond what you had done to deserve this curse.

Bruce cut your silent questions by grasping your jaw and tilting your chin up, his calloused thumb caressing your skin until it reached your plush lower lip and pulled it down. His eyes searched for yours, observing your bright beauty bathed in darkness.

"Clever girl.."

Your heart skipped a beat and you wriggled nervously beneath him, his praise stirred something devious in your belly. Something you will not give to willingly. Not tonight.

"Don't call me that goddammit" you fumed, eyes still trying to avoid him but he forced a knee between your legs and pressed himself against you, towering over you and invading your entire field of vision until he was all you could see, there was no escaping.

"Why? because you like it? You think I can't see you twitching, hear your heart racing, your breath getting shallower?" he leaned forward, eyes sparkling with corrupted intentions as he teased "You can't lie to me, love . And don't worry, I will give you all the pretty names you wished you despised"

" I promise you , I will never stop fighting" you spat, his nose almost touching yours making you sag against the scraping wood's tree.

"I missed you so much" He smiled at your threat before diving in, pressing his mouth against yours. His hands cupped your face and his knee came up, creating friction between your legs, parting your lips in an incoherent sound and granting his wicked tongue access. Despite the palpable eagerness of his kisses, his tongue massaged yours lovingly spreading warm all over your neck and cheeks.

Bruce was always so intensely consuming, he tried to imprint everything he felt in every single caress, all wanting, tormented and enamoured touches. He wanted to escape the part of his twisted morals that still managed to appear every time he was with you. So he pressed harder, he gripped tighter, he licked, sucked and felt deeper. Crashing the troubling thoughts underneath the unyielding desire.

"I hate you" you breathed out when he parted, his lips mere centimetres away. "No, you don't. You want to, though. You try so hard sweetheart." his gobbled hand grazed the side of your neck down to your shoulder and arm, waking up treacherous goosebumps and tremors, your body betraying you beneath his fingers. A dark chuckle proved his case as he lowered his head next to your ear, a welcomed relief from his imposing stare as warmth covered your skin and chest mortifyingly.

"You want to hate what I make you feel" he murmured as his touch travelled south, across your neck, chest and lower belly, finally connecting with the laced front of your panties and running his fingertips through the fabric, his touch delicate as if he was stroking the wings of a butterfly. Your breath hitched and your thighs clenched as you felt his lips placing a rewarding kiss on your neck.

"Now is your turn to stop pretending y/n" he said before he dipped his fingers inside your flimsy panties, a finger sliding down your slit trespassing the thin barrier of flesh, finding you wet and ready to reap. Cursing under his breath, he started trailing kisses along your jaw and neck, nipping at any patch of skin he found.

"My clever girl. Only mine" he murmured between kisses as if he wanted to carve the words on your flesh.

His hands roamed your body, gripping and fondling ecstatically. This time you didn't resist. There was a reverence in his sinful words and demonstrations, a profound adoration that was so urgent and needy, it was sucking all of your strength away, rendering you weak and pliant, completely drunk under such devoted and obsessive veneration.

One of his large gloved hands crept up and wrapped over both of your tied hands, lacing his fingers with yours while his other hand kept brushing his covered digits through your sex slowly and vehemently, the rougher texture of the rubber lighting every nerve aflame. Then, he sank his fingers inside you only to retire them shortly after, spreading the wetness around, and focusing on rubbing your bud in religious sweet circles as your hips stirred awake, meeting his movements on their own accord.

Shallow breaths and sighs escaped your parted lips as your heart pounded frantically. Your back arched and your world turned dark as your eyes slammed shut, the rejection from your mind losing the battle against the burning flames of desire cutting through your body.

You were so immersed in what he was doing to you and what he would do next that you failed to notice the sudden flash of movement that bared you to the chilly night air. In a clean-cut, he had split the expensive satin gown in two, using the hidden blades in his wrists braces. Some scraps of fabric cascaded down your shoulders, others watered the earth.

"I'll buy you another, you look so good in them..but so much better like this"

His gaze moved from your exposed feverish skin to your half-mast eyes, absorbing your overwhelmed state. When his eyes connected with yours he must have seen how close you were to the edge of the abyss, that all that he needed to do was give you a little push. So he cupped one of your wet cheeks and prepared to strike.

"Pretty girl, I hope you learned your lesson. You should know by now there's no getting away. Not now, not ever" he shortened the distance between your faces, nuzzling your nose with his as another gasp left your mouth when you felt the cold hardness of the kevlar covering his chest rubbing against your bare breasts.

" We can play all you want my sweet, but it's always going to end the same-" holding your hips tightly he hiked both of your legs, securing them around his waist - "- with me buried between this pretty legs while I make you cry out my name and forget yours"

"Please Bruce- "

Your complaint was silenced by his mouth devouring yours, a guttural sound reverberating inside his chest.

The night went darker as the course bark pressed into the naked skin of your back. But the roughness was mismatched by the way he held you close, pillowing your head with his large hand, carefully manhandling you to not hit the hardness of the tree while you arched in silent surrendering pleasure.

Sweet nothings were whispered, his lips spreading venom as he mapped your skin and you continued to drink the malevolent potion of his love. He poisoned your heart, mind and soul until you murmured, mewled and shouted his name at the voiceless moon, stars and woods ever the untelling witnesses.

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