#Doctor Octopus oneshot

[vvaspoppie]

Otto Octavius: Instinctive

→ Summary: After an incident, Otto finds out that Y/N is a mutant. → Author’s Note: Idk what this is probably the result of my Doc Ock obsession and watching some of the X-Men + Wolverine movies. Not evil Otto for this one. Pretend Norman allows them lunch breaks. →⚠ Warnings ⚠: Insecurities(?) → Fandom: Spectacular Spider-Man → Genre: Oneshot → Word Count: 1.2k → Pronouns: They/Them

You had no idea what Otto would think if he found out. You had been working at OsCorp for a good few years and in that time you’d come to consider him a friend. He seemed nice, but then again most people did when they didn’t know you were a mutant. It’s why you choose to keep it completely under wraps. The only people that knew were in your family. 

You worked in the genetics department. It seemed cliché, the person with a genetic mutation studying genetics, but that’s just how life works sometimes. You don’t remember how you met, and you didn’t really need to. You both took lunch at the same time and had been doing so since your first month at the company. 

It was lunch right then, not that you would have known that. You were too engrossed to notice the passage of time or your colleagues leaving the room or even Otto hesitantly approaching your hunched-over form. He softly called out to you but to your unprepared mind, it registered as a threat. On instinct, you disappeared. At least that’s what it must have looked like to Otto. You looked down at your arms and saw nothing. You saw the shock spread across his face as you silently stared. He turned around the room in search of you, mouth slightly agape. It was a better reaction than your last boyfriend. 

You’d turned semi-invisible in your sleep (meaning only your clothes were visible) and when he saw you he thought there was a ghost in your apartment. (Which was somehow more acceptable to him than the real reason). 

He softly whispered your name, which was when you reappeared. He jumped back in shock. “H-how did you do that?” He kept his voice low, likely not wanting to attract any attention from the people walking the halls outside.

Oh God, it was happening. You couldn’t tell if the look on his face was the ‘what-the-hell-did-you-do’ kind of shock or the ‘what-the-hell-are-you’ kind of shock. It was usually the second kind, but you didn’t believe Otto was like that. Didn’t want to believe he was like that.

Your heart was beating a mile a minute and your ears were burning hot as coal. This was it. You took in a deep breath and decided it would be quicker and easier to rip the bandaid off immediately. “I’m a mutant.” Then there was silence. His face reminded you of someone who had just figured out a complicated math equation, just more excited. 

It seemed as if the words went directly from brain to mouth. “Do you know how it works?” The realisation seemed to hit him quickly as he fumbled a bit with his next words. “Of course you know how they work,” he mumbled it like an apology, “D-do you know how it works on a cellular level, I mean.” With each passing word his voice became softer. You simply stared at him. You knew he was a scientist but his attitude still surprised you. Not afraid of the unfamiliar and instead interested - captivated by it - even. “No,” that was the word that opened the floodgates, “but I am doing independent study using my own blood. Oh, I also did my thesis on the genetic differences in human and mutant DNA.”

A small smile made its way onto his face. The air of the room was far less tense than a few moments before. “I suppose that’s why you never mentioned your thesis before.” Your face fell somewhat. “I can talk about it more if you want, just - don’t tell anyone else. Please.” It bruised your ego a bit to be pleading with someone like you're a school child asking someone not to tell anyone about your crush, but what else could you do. 

“Yes, of course,” he cleared his throat, though it sounded more than a little forced, “should we get to lunch now?”

You whipped your head in the direction of the clock on the wall. Your lunch break started a whole five minutes ago.

“Sure, sure. My bad.”

↔

At most lunches, you were both too drained to speak about much, preferring to enjoy each other's company in silence. Otto was more talkative than before for obvious reasons.

“You could commit crimes very easily with your abilities,” he spoke softly.

“I suppose so,” you didn’t quite enjoy what he was implying, but you didn’t want to assume deeper meaning where there might not have been.

“Have you?” Once again, brain directly to mouth. “Thought of it I mean- I know you’d never do something like that.”

“A few times,” it was tempting, even the best people’s minds would wander if they had your abilities, “I never acted on it. I doubt OsCorp would hire someone with a criminal record.” Nark sons of-

“Of course they wouldn’t, it would be horrible for publicity.” He cleared his throat and gulped down his water.

“Sure.” The conversation ended there and left a one-sided awkward air between the two of you. You wondered if it was a felony or a misdemeanour that caused the sudden uptick in his nerves. 

↔

It was the end of the workday and the lunchtime incident was almost completely absent from your mind. You packed your lab equipment away and wiped down almost every surface that you could. You weren’t sure if Otto was still in the building, but knowing him you ventured to guess he was. When you reached his lab, you could clearly hear what sounded almost like an argument. Almost because it was just someone else berating him. You knocked on the door and called out his name. The room went quiet and not a minute later Mr Osborn stormed out of the room. He shot you an irritated glance, but said nothing.

You hesitantly poked your head into the doorway. The lab was clean and Otto looked to be unharmed. (physically at least)

“Are you in trouble?” You asked, stepping into the room.

“No, no trouble. Mr Osborn is just … like that.” He was trying to keep the mask up, but it was plainly obvious that he was upset. Maybe now wasn’t the best moment to ask, but then again- “Do you want to go get dinner with me? I could pay if you want.”

“Yes.” His answer was quick, but his backtracking was just as fast. “I-I would love to…” He trailed off.

“But?”

“But I have more work still to do.” He sounded as disappointed as you felt.

“I thought they weren’t allowing overtime for this month?” HR did a crappy job of explaining why, but you got the basic idea down.

You could practically hear the way his heartbeat spiked by the look on his face. “It’s a special occasion.” You decided it was best not to question the way higher-ups thought.

“Do you know when you’ll be free?” This conversation was a verbal trainwreck.

“I believe I’ll be available next Thursday.” He had that awkward smile on his face again, it looked almost like the one he had when a hypothesis was proven wrong.

“That works.” The little confidence you had when you first walked into the room was nowhere to be found at this point in the conversation. He extended his hand, and you shook it. “It’s a date.”

He had to have been the most awkward yet cute person you’d ever known. And you had a date with him next Thursday.

Tagging: @sargensliza

#pop se sierskrif #otto octavius #otto octavius x reader #tssm doc ock x reader #doc ock x reader #doc ock #doctor octopus #doctor octavius #tssm x reader #oneshot #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #villain x reader

[mariaofdoranelle]

Mastermind

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @rowanaelinn!!

I’m posting this oneshot at midnight in your time zone if my math is right. I was between childhood friends to lovers and exes to lovers, but ended up going for this secret, cuter third thing. However you wanna call it, it’s a TS-inspired fluff fest.

Love you, Ezzy. I hope you have the best day today ❤️

Warnings: language

Words: 6k

14 YEARS BEFORE

“They’re idiots,” her boyfriend said with all the sureness a second-grader could have.

Aelin groaned. “I told my mom these glasses are stupid, but she won’t listen.”

“I know you can’t see it because the doctor said you’re blind now, but you still look very pretty, Fireheart.”

“I’m not blind!” Aelin whined.

Rowan squinted his eyes at her, not convinced of that yet.

When the school bus stopped and they stepped out, her body finally relaxed. She took a deep breath. That smelly bus full of mean kids had nothing on her neighborhood’s main street, especially when the first thing that hit her senses was coming from Emrys’, her favorite bakery.

Getting home was Aelin’s favorite part of school, but only because she did it with Rowan. She couldn’t stop thinking about today, the embarrassment she felt after the other kids wouldn’t let her play with them because she wouldn’t see the ball. The worst part is, Aelin knew her new glasses were just one of many excuses they had to not let her play.

She sighed, and Rowan squeezed her hand like he knew what she was thinking. After that, he bought her a Kit Kat bar with the pocket money his dad gives him, because he thought he knew how Aelin felt. He didn’t. Rowan said he didn’t want to play with kids who didn’t want to play with Aelin as well, but he only had a few friends because he wanted to.

Their parents were always telling them to use bikes on this stretch, but Aelin and Rowan actually walked on a turtle’s pace so they could spend more time together. Besides, she loved her neighborhood. She liked stopping to pet the neighbors’ dogs through the fences and jumping over the cracks of the sidewalk with Rowan.

Her dad had been telling her all about Doranelle City and how she’d love it there, but Aelin didn’t want to hear it. She loved Mistward, even if it was small and the kids at school didn’t like her. She had Rowan, and she had Emrys’ chocolate cake. It was more than enough.

“Wait here,” he said when they passed by his house.

”Aren’t you going to drop Aelin off, sweetie?” His mother called while she worked on her garden, and turned to Aelin. “I like your glasses. You look great in purple.”

Aelin hoped she wasn’t blushing. Even if Rowan’s mom didn’t approve of their relationship, she was always nice to Aelin.

It was their thing. Aelin walked Rowan home because his house was close to the bus stop, then he walked her home because he wanted to drop her off safely. Only after that he’d walk back to his house, alone this time.

“I’m just going to drop my backpack inside,” he explained.

Mrs. Whitethorn had the most beautiful garden in this block, it was her baby. It had roses and a few other flowers Aelin didn’t know the name of, but the kingsflower was her favorite.

“ROWAN!” Rory called, making Aelin’s eyes go wide and look for her boyfriend.

Before she knew it, he pulled her and they both ran off. Aelin’s heartbeat was as fast as her breathing, but Rowan didn’t let go of her hand as they ran away from his home. He made a stop a little after they turned around the corner, both of them panting and staring at each other with widened eyes.

“What did you do?”

With a sheepish smile, Rowan showed a big, blooming kingsflower he picked from his mom’s garden.

Aelin’s eyes were big with surprise, but then she smiled at him bigger than when she got chocolate cake. “For me?” She beamed, laughing.

Rowan handed over the flower, wearing the boyfriend smile he used just with her.

“I wish I was an octopus, that way I could give you seven flowers.”

“You mean eight.”

Rowan shook his head. “I‘d still need one to hold your hand while we run.”

Aelin’s cheeks were hurting from smiling so much, but she wouldn’t stop even after she got home.

“Do you think your mom will be convinced after that?”

Rowan shook his head. “She still asks me to call you my best friend.”

“Did you tell her we hold hands and share our lunch?”

”I did. She told me dating takes a lot of responsibility and other things kids can’t do.”

Aelin wrinkled her nose. “I think she means kissing.”

“Ew.” Rowan grimaced. “We don’t need that.” He had that little frown that gave away he was thinking hard on something, then sighed. “The couples always kiss on their wedding day, though. I guess I can kiss you if it means we’ll be married when we’re eighteen.”

“Come on, Buzzard.” She tugged on his hand, resuming their walk. “We’ll figure out the grown-up stuff when we grow up.”

Rowan didn’t press on the subject after that, but she knew he was still thinking about it. It was okay, she thought while twirling the kingsflower between her fingers.

Aelin planned the video game they’d play this weekend, Rowan planned the bouncy castle they’d live in instead of a brick house, ten years from now. It was how they worked.

If every day was a day with Rowan, she’d be alright.

CURRENT TIME

PERMISSION DENIED, said the stamp in very red, bold and capitalized letters over Aelin’s request to do part of her research in a rural school near Doranelle City.

Aelin’s furious footsteps clanked against the Depart of Psychology’s tiles as loud as if she were wearing high heels. She knew better than to wear that, though, especially with how many stairs she had to climb to get to the lecture hall.

What was the point of being the psychology department’s nepo baby if she couldn’t even do her research? And was denied by Murtaugh Allsbrook, out of all her dad’s friends.

It was so simple. Aelin just needed permission to do her research at the school Murtaugh worked at, and she didn’t even know that man was capable of saying the word no.

Apparently, he is.

Aelin knocked on her dad’s office, but didn’t wait for his reply to enter. He looked exactly the same as every other day, leaning on that huge, messy wooden desk.

“Fireheart,” Rhoe acknowledged her without taking his eyes off the paper he was grading.

“You didn’t give Murtaugh a heads up about me filing the request?”

“I thought you didn’t want special treatment.” Her dad replied in a quiet tone.

”But you do that to every one of your students!”

Rhoe finally glued his eyes off the paper, looking deep into her eyes with raised eyebrows. “I thought you didn’t want to be advised by me.”

Aelin groaned, placing that damned paper into his desk. “Why are you being so difficult?”

“Sorry, Fireheart.” Her father rubbed his face with both hands. “I guess I’m a little on edge today. I’ll see if any of my students can spot if there’s anything wrong with your papers, then I’ll call Murtaugh.”

Aelin sat in front of him, finally relaxing. “Thanks, Dad.”

Rhoe got up, squeezed her shoulder and headed for his lab down the hall.

She took in his office while waiting. Either as a daughter or as a student, Aelin was very familiar with those wooden floors and lavender essential oil her dad diffused here to help soothing anxious grad students. Now that Aelin was one, she realized it didn’t do much.

“Hi, Dr. Galathynius asked me—“

Her dad’s advisee stopped mid-sentence, and Aelin knew why the second she saw him.

This version of him didn’t resemble the one in her childhood memories at all, but Aelin could recognize those deep pine-green eyes anywhere.

It was like something in her chest loosened to give room for her heart to go wild. No thoughts, the realization that Rowan Whitethorn was standing in front of her after more than a decade, and the funny feeling in the pit of her stomach that came with it.

“Aelin,” he said under his breath, as if her childhood nickname had slipped out of his conscience. His body was completely frozen, eyes wide.

At that point, it wasn’t a matter of if Aelin cared or not. It was a reflex. She got up from her chair and ran Rowan’s way as fast as she could, embracing him in a clumsy, but tight hug. It took a beat for his brain to process all that information and make him hug her back, but he did. So tight he squeezed her ribs a little, but it was alright. Aelin smiled with her head resting on his collarbone, feeling his frenzied pulse against her cheek.

“What are you doing here in Doranelle?” She asked in a quiet, wondrous tone.

He put some distance between them, still holding both of her shoulders and taking her in. “I did tell you I’d move here too.”

Aelin grinned, feeling the leap her heart did at that memory. Rowan’s words when she told him her father got a job on the other side of the country, and she’d be doing 3rd grade there. “Don’t worry, Fireheart. I’ll go with you.”

Swallowing those feelings down, Aelin playfully slapped on his arm. “How long have you been working with my dad? Why didn’t you reach out to me?”

“Just a few weeks, and—“ Rowan rubbed the sting off from his bicep. His insanely large bicep. Aelin trained her eyes back to his face. “It took me a while to decide on an advisor, but your father took me under his wing the second he saw me. And about reaching out…” he did that thing where he just stared at her again, as if he couldn’t believe she was there. “We stayed out of touch for so long, I didn’t want to presume.”

“Presume?” Aelin asked in an outraged, high-pitched tone. “Rowan Whitethorn, you’re my favorite ex.”

“Yeah?” He asked and blinked a few times, looking flabbergasted.

She shook her head slowly, clicking her tongue. “You should’ve seen the dipshits I dated in high school.”

“I-“ He looked at his watch and frowned. “I wish I could invite you for something longer than coffee, but I have Dr. Lochan’s class in an hour.”

“So do I,” she lied. That class couldn’t be further from Aelin’s dissertation, but she needed more time with him.

Rowan was here. She could barely believe it.

“Really?” He scratched his strong, stubbly, mouth-watering jaw. “I haven’t seen you there.”

“Did you even pay attention to your classmates?”

He looked down, a small smile on his lips. “Busted.” He looked back at her. “Do you want to go now and we’ll grab coffee there? Do you need a ride?”

”Sure. I’m trying to take the bus more. Carbon monoxide and all.” Well, that wasn’t exactly a lie. Aelin did care about carbon monoxide. Just not enough to get a crowded, smelly bus first thing in the morning.

Rowan jerked his head towards the door. “Come on, then. I parked close today.”

Dr. Lochan taught at the philosophy building, which was a bit far from theirs. His classes were attended by grad students of the whole humanities field, and rumor has it the cafeteria there is a lot better than the one in the psychology building. Aelin wouldn’t know, but she was supposed to.

As soon as they got in the car, she took her lipstick and carefully tinted her cupid’s bow and bottom lip with pink, drawing Rowan’s attention to her lips. She couldn’t look back at him because it’d be too obvious to spot what she was doing, but Aelin still felt his gaze burning into her skin.

“You ready?” He asked with firm eye contact the second she took her eyes off the mirror.

She nodded, giving him a bashful smile, and Rowan turned on the engine.

Aelin twirled her lipstick between her fingers, considering her next move.

Her favorite person from childhood, the one she had the fondest memories with, was right there. And he looked hot like hell.

Yes, Aelin knew she was being impulsive, but just as much as she wanted to rekindle something right now.

When Rowan was focused on that uni street, she sneaked her tube of lipstick underneath her leg, so it’d look as if she lost it there.

Was leaving something in a guy’s car the oldest trick in the book? Absolutely, but it was as old as it was effective.

Checkmate, she couldn’t lose.

˜˜

Her class—that wasn’t her class at all—had ended hours ago, but Aelin had so much to do she didn’t even notice how time flew by.

Rowan insisted on giving her a ride home after the lecture ended, which meant she had to uber back to the psychology department to get her car. Now that Aelin had her comfy pajamas on and pizza, she was writing Dr. Lochan a formal email, asking to audit his class this semester.

She knew she should’ve been working on her denied application now, but Aelin couldn’t stop thinking about her long lost love from when she was a kid.

Every time she thought of Rowan—which became less frequent each year, but she still did—she remembered him fondly, especially how sweet he was with her.

Never, during all these years, she considered how hulky and insanely hot he’d become.

Like he was being summoned by her thoughts, her phone pinged.

Unknown: Hi. It’s Rowan

Unknown: Rowan Whitethorn. Your favorite ex.

Unknown: Did you forget lipstick in my car?

Aelin put her laptop aside, snuggling in her bed to give her phone full attention now. Smiling, she saved his contact the same way she would’ve done 14 years ago.

Seeing him reach out so fast after they exchanged numbers brought back that funny feeling in her insides, but she still had to calculate her next steps. Aelin squinted at her phone with an alert gaze.

Leaving the lipstick in his car had three goals: make him text her, find out if he’s single by how sure he is about the lipstick being hers, and get invited to a date so he could return it. A question vague like this one did nothing to the second step of this mission.

Aelin: hey!

Aelin: did i?

Aelin: i haven’t noticed

She would rather ignore her fast and erratic heartbeat as she waited for him to finish typing.

Buzzard: It belongs either to you or my bro Lorcan.

Aelin used the little breath she still had to let out a loud, maniacal laugh. No girlfriend, then. She could already listen to the sound of the dominoes cascading in a line.

It was a bold move to leave one of her favorite lipsticks in his car, but Rowan needed to catch up on her tastes. Their wedding was four years too late, she needed to act.

Aelin: there *is* a missing pink lipstick from my purse.

Rowan: Don’t worry, I’ll return it next class

Her shoulders slumped. No date invitation. She could work with that, though.

Before she could look for his social media, Aelin put a reminder on her phone to text him at the same time tomorrow. Time to start some classical conditioning.

˜˜

If it wasn’t for the silver-haired man by her side, Aelin would’ve spent this whole class reading fanfiction online. The class she wasn’t even supposed to attend, for starters.

Dr. Lochan sounded like a sleeping pill to her ears, and it didn’t help that Rowan was playing with the ends of her hair. The electric shock of his fingers against her strands made her shiver, but then the tingling sensation in the back of her neck was so relaxing it almost made her purr.

Her screen lighting up took her out of the sleep-inducing class and hair-caressing haze.

Dad: Did you fix your permission yet?

Aelin: rowan said he just diagnosed it

Aelin: we’ll sit to discuss what can be done later today

Dad: Do you think you can finish before Friday?

Dad: I'll pay Murtaugh a visit. I can hand him the file.

She considered this request, biting her lip. It was Tuesday today. If it took a whole week for Rowan to inspect it, it'd take longer to rewrite it. But then she thought of the very long drive she did to file these at the school Murtaugh worked for. Eh. Taking the risk was worth it.

Aelin: i’ll have it ready by thursday night

Dad: [thumbs up emoji]

When she put her phone down and inched closer to Rowan, he leaned his hand on the backrest of her chair. Aelin suppressed a smile.

“Do you think I can finish rewriting by Thursday?”

He nodded. “I didn’t see anything wrong with your application, actually. Coffee after class?”

“Sure.” Aelin was trying so hard to hide her smug smile.

So far, Operation Rowan was a success. By texting him every day at the same time, it didn’t take long for his brain to learn that as a conditioned response. On the fourth day, he was the one texting her at the time she was supposed to text him.

Aelin couldn’t be happier about her Psychology degree.

She didn’t find Rowan’s social media—she found out later he doesn’t have any, which is a huge green flag—but she did find his Spotify account. When she discovered which artists they liked in common, conversation flew.

After the class, they sat in that same cafeteria to discuss her application.

“I don’t understand why Mr. Allsbrook denied it.” Rowan looked absolutely delicious with those muscles stretching his white cotton shirt while he praised her work. “There isn’t a lot to change, but maybe you should detail more what you’ll be doing with the students for the research, since your work is so innovative.”

She smiled. “You mean experimental.”

“I mean groundbreaking.” Rowan leaned closer, studying her face as the corners of his lips slightly tugged up. ”Any questions?”

“Yes.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow, prompting her further. He was so fucking close, sitting on her side like that.

“Why are you staring at my lips?”

He wasn’t, but he was going to now.

Rowan’s eyes slowly slid from her eyes to her mouth. Back to her eyes. On her lips again. Her knees got weaker each motion, and it didn’t help that they were between his, under the table.

It was like the electricity between them burrowed under Aelin’s skin, waking up her heart that was now beating like a drum.

Rowan gently caressed her jaw. A question. A warning.

Her veins felt like wildfire, heating the air between them. Aelin leaned closer slowly, tilting her head up so they wouldn’t break eye contact until—

“ROWIE!”

Rowan jerked away from her, erasing the moment faster than it started. Aelin’s body felt hot as she looked around, wondering what had just happened.

A blonde man with a I would like to make a joke about philosophy, but I Kant t-shirt approached them, a huge smirk on his face.

“Fenrys.” Rowan’s greeting was almost a protest. “What are you doing here?”

He sat across from them. “Nothing as interesting as you.”

Rowan’s already flushed cheeks just turned a shade darker.

“Hello, gorgeous. Fenrys gave her a troublesome grin. “Since when do you hang out with that grump?”

“First grade.” Rowan narrowed his eyes at his friend, sliding a possessive hand across Aelin’s shoulders. She tried not to visibly swoon. “She taught me the L trick to tell left from right.”

“Oh, really?” Fenrys’ smile grew, and he didn’t seem to miss how Rowan was staking his claim with that arm around her. “Now I need to hear all his stories as a kid.”

“No, you don’t.” Rowan’s voice was so clipped Aelin held back a snort.

Fenrys eyes were gleaming as he smirked like the devil. “All of them.”

˜˜

She didn’t know for how long Aelin and Rowan were there just holding their breaths, waiting for other shoe to drop.

Murtaugh Allsbrook seemed very relaxed, though. Just slowly reading through all the applications and marking them with a PERMISSION GRANTED stamp with very blue, bold and capitalized letters, his signature by its side.

She could barely believe how easy this was.

When Rowan texted her this morning telling Rhoe had asked him to hand the documents at Murtaugh’s school, she was almost sure she’d be rejected again.

The person visiting would be a student, not the professor he’d known for years. He’d read her application again and say he couldn’t let her do research with his students. Aelin already knew she would have to fight for her dissertation, so she asked to come with Rowan.

Her heart almost leapt out of her chest when Murtaugh held her own application. He seemed to be reading faster than the other ones, though.

“I detailed the activities a little further this time.”

The man nodded. If he said something, she couldn’t hear it because of the increasingly loud rain outside.

“I guessed that was the reason why my application got rejected at first.”

“That’s right, dear.” The pitch of Murtaugh’s voice was slightly higher this time, and he closed the file before he could get halfway through it. He had barely read it. When Aelin opened her mouth to speak again, ready to defend her work, the sound of Murtaugh’s stamp stopped her.

PERMISSION GRANTED

Both Aelin and Rowan exchanged small, satisfied grins when the man wasn’t looking. She sat a little taller in her seat, feeling warmth spread through her chest. And not because of the lack of AC in this freaking school.

She could barely believe how easy it was this time. Her dad called in a favor, it was the only reason she got rejected and then accepted without Murtaugh even reading what she rewrote. Aelin would question her father later, now she just wanted to enjoy this moment.

After the man started some small talk with Aelin and Rowan—mostly about Rhoe and the projects some of his students would be working on in this school—and went through all the files, it was finally time to go home.

“You did great there.”

Aelin groaned. “He didn’t even read my adjustments.”

“Maybe he regretted rejecting you?”

She snorted, but it sounded bitter even to her ears. “Maybe he got a phone call from my dad.”

“I don’t doubt it, I’ve seen him doing that for other students.” Rowan squeezed her hand. “It’s not a bad thing, though.”

Chuckling, he slid that one hand around Aelin’s waist, tugging her closer.

Ever since meeting Rowan again, she realized her skin tingles everywhere he touches her. It was starting to become an issue, especially because it had been a few days since their almost kiss, and she couldn’t stop replaying it in her head.

Outside, Aelin realized the rain was a lot heavier than she predicted. She could hear it from Murtaugh’s office, but didn’t realize how aggressive it was outside.

“Come on.” Rowan tugged her hand. “My weather app says it can rain the whole day.“

Aelin sprinted in the rain towards his car, feeling her clothes progressively clinging onto her skin as the rain soaked her wet. Even then, Rowan followed her to open the passage door, running to the driver’s side only after she was inside and safe from Doranelle’s weather.

She tugged on Rowan’s hair and squeezed it to dry a little. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she mentioned his completely unnecessary act of chivalry. She could open her own door, especially in this pouring rain. Despite her own words, Aelin tried and failed to hide a silly smile.

Rowan just grinned and shook his head like a dog, sprinkling droplets of water across the car.

He turned the GPS on and started the drive back, but Aelin was wondering how long it’d take.

After leaving the city, Aelin and Rowan started on a road. A lot later, they entered a smaller road. After that, they entered something that was barely a road. The rural school she’d be collecting data on was a little after that. That’s how long their drive was about to be. Especially now, that Rowan was driving slower to be careful.

”Aelin, I—“ Rowan was squinting his eyes at the road before him. “I can’t see anything. Can you find somewhere we can pull over until the weather gets better?”

Which will take a long time to happen were the words he didn’t say.

When Aelin checked the map, she felt her muscles tighten. “There’s a hotel. It’s the closest place.”

Rowan nodded and asked for her to add it to the GPS on his car. If he had any thoughts or feelings about this, he didn’t show. It was late afternoon already, so it made sense to choose a hotel.

Trees blurring together as they passed by. The soft sound of her playlist, partially muffled by the rain. The car’s AC brushing against Aelin’s skin, giving her goosebumps. Because that was the reason this was happening, right? She had been planning to get together with Rowan, but there was no way staying with him at a hotel would make her limbs tingle like this, so fast after they reconnected.

He dropped her at the front door and went to park the car. The hotel looked nice enough, displaying simple, but comfortable-looking furniture and decorated with plastic kingsflower bouquets. They took her back to Rowan’s old garden, and the remainder of one of Aelin’s favorite childhood memories brought a smile to her face.

There were other people in the lobby who probably had the same idea as them, but she only stood in line at the front desk for a few minutes.

“I’d like to do a check-in.”

The woman nodded, but didn’t do so much as look at Aelin. “How many people, dear?”

“Two.”

She typed on her computer, nodding. “How many rooms?”

Aelin opened her mouth, then closed. She glanced at the fake bouquet of kingsflower, feeling her heartbeat in her throat.

“Just one room.”

The woman just chewed her gum harder as she typed more, but Aelin could barely breathe as she lied her way into Rowan’s bed.

Her gaze quickly swept the room until she found him leaning against a pillar while holding a bag. He gave her a small nod, and Aelin hoped the smile she gave him looked natural.

“There was only one bed,” Aelin blurted as soon as she approached him.

He blinked. “What?”

“Room,” she corrected herself and showed the key dangling from her finger. “There was only one room available.”

“Oh.” Rowan looked around, and his frown morphed into an eyebrow raise she couldn’t quite decipher. “Alright.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Rowan shrugged and guided her towards the room by placing a hand on her waist. Aelin hoped he didn’t notice the way she shivered. He continued, “Besides, there’s nothing we can do, right? There’s only one room, you said yourself.”

Their room was small, but it looked cozy with its white walls and wooden window. The rain was still pouring outside, but now it was more like a soothing background noise than a nuisance.

“Take this.” Rowan handed her some fresh clothes as he searched for something in his bag. “I think this is the only change of clothes I have, but you can take it.”

“Where did you take this from?”

It was a neatly folded green t-shirt and a pair of soft jeans. It smelled so fresh and detergent-like that Aelin sighed against it. Rowan was studying her, a small smile on his face. Shit. Did Aelin just smell his clothes in front of him?

“Sometimes I need to shower at the gym. Keeping a change of clothes in the car comes in handy.”

Nodding, Aelin unfolded Rowan’s gigantic shirt. It was very easy to picture him having to shower at the gym after spending too much time there, and just thinking of him like that made her blood boil.

“This shirt is bigger than some dresses I have. I can take this, and you’ll take the pants.”

Taking the bathroom first, she frowned at herself in the mirror. Aelin was covered until mid-thigh, which was alright, but damp hair and faded makeup weren’t her best look. Cleaning smudges of mascara from under her eyes with toilet paper was the best she could do to look fresh, though.

Rowan was sitting on the side of the bed, head tilted up as he supported himself with the heels of his hands. He was wearing nothing but jeans and the ridges and valleys of his abs.

Did her knees just get weak?

The air between them was taut as Rowan’s gaze kept darting between Aelin’s face and her—mostly—bare legs, almost as if he was fighting his eyes to stay up. She hasn’t been near as discreet about ogling him.

Aelin strolled his way and bumped their knees together, eyes somewhere between shy and mischievous.

Rowan toyed with the hem of the shirt she was wearing and tilted his head up to look her in the eye. “You’re quite the sight in my Levi’s, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.” Aelin playfully flipped her hair and sat beside Rowan on the bed. “Please, tell me all about that.”

Rowan chuckled and wrapped a towel around her shoulders so the shirt wouldn’t get damp by her hair, caressing it on his way.

“I didn’t know a lot when I was a kid, Aelin, but I knew you’re the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen. That didn’t change over time.”

“Really?” Aelin felt like her whole body was melting, and Rowan’s pining gaze was the only thing keeping her upright.

“Fireheart,” he whispered her name like it was his only possible answer and caressed her hair until his thumb reached her cheek.

She let out a short, soft chuckle. “Buzzard.”

Aelin hadn’t called him that in years, and the way his eyes lit up told her he noticed that too.

His shaky thumb brushed her bottom lip in one careful motion. “Is this okay?”

Aelin’s nod was almost imperceptible, but it was enough for him to tug her closer and meet her halfway, closing their distance.

Their kiss wasn’t each other’s first like they had planned, but right now it felt like the only one that mattered. Rowan’s lips felt so soft to the touch as they made their way between hers, and she felt her insides fluttering as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss.

But then it mixed with a tight feeling in the back of her throat as Rowan flicked his tongue against hers, and Aelin couldn’t stop wondering if this kiss would even happen if she hadn’t schemed and manipulated her way into it. Her body got more stiff each time he caressed her.

Aelin broke the kiss and lowered her gaze, not looking him in the eye.

“There was more than one room available. I lied to you.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Okay.”

Rowan trailed kisses down her neck, but Aelin still felt her chest tight.

She added some distance between them. “You don’t understand. I could’ve booked two rooms, but I didn’t. Just like I forgot my lipstick in your car on purpose.”

“Aelin…” Rowan sat back on the bed to talk. His hand grasped hers, and his eyes had nothing but amusement as he looked deep into hers. “I knew it wasn’t the last room because other people checked in after us. And leaving things in my car is the oldest trick in the book.”

Aelin opened her mouth to retort, but he beat her to it. “I also saw you’re not in the official list of students at Dr. Lochan’s class.” He squeezed her hand, biting his lip as an attempt to not laugh. “And I’m a psychologist, Aelin, of course I’d notice you were conditioning me to text you at the same time every day.”

She stepped back, mouth falling open. “You knew it the entire time?”

Rowan nodded, still clamping his lips together as if this was the funniest thing. For Mala’s sake, Aelin thought she was being so smooth.

She gave him a tentative, awkward grin. “And you’re not mad?”

“No.” His mouth opened into a smirk. “Actually, I thought it was a little endearing.” Tugging her closer, he continued in a soft tone, “You didn’t have to do all that, though.”

When Rowan kissed her again, it felt right. He gripped the back of her hair with one hand and her waist with the other, but her whole body tingled and shivered as he held her. Aelin fully melted into his touch this time, feeling all the butterflies in her stomach as they explored each other in a bruising kiss.

He rested their foreheads together, breathless as she’d never seen him. “But if you want to make up for lying to me, we could get back together.”

“Alright.” She chuckled and pecked him, but he took advantage and bit her bottom lip. “I thought you’d want to start casual.”

“I don’t know, Aelin.” Rowan tilted his head sideways and frowned, pretending to look thoughtful. “I *did* tell my entire family, when I was eight, that you’re my future wife. Agreeing to be casual would be a huge setback.”

“Okay,” Aelin chirped, adjusting herself in his lap. “So you’re telling me my master mind and scheming abilities brought us together?”

He snorted. “I was ready to woo you, but I guess chivalry is really dead.”

Something struck Rowan, making him disentangle himself from her. He paused, analyzing his still wet shirt, but wore it anyway. “Wait here.”

Aelin frowned at the ajar door he had just left open. What the fuck had just happened? Did Rowan really leave right after they got back together?

It was a matter of seconds before he returned, though. Aelin felt the fuzziest feeling as her face morphed into a beam.

He had one single kingsflower in his hand, which had definitely been stolen from the lobby.

“I wish I was an octopus, that way I could give you seven flowers.”

Aelin cracked a surprised laughter, her pulse fast. “You mean eight.”

Rowan shook his head, grinning as well. “I‘d still need one to hold your hand.”

LATER THAT WEEK

“Are you going to tell me why I had to deny your own daughter’s application?”

Holding his glass, Rhoe pointed to the very expensive bottle of whiskey he gave Murtaugh, which they were sipping right now in his living room. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

His friend smirked. “Bullshit.”

Rhoe smiled at his glass. This wasn’t the easiest thing to confess, but he regretted nothing.

“I hate it when people say love works by faith alone. Do you know how hard it was for an average guy like me to pull Evalin?”

Murtaugh’s mouth was ajar as he processed this. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“Sometimes people need a little push. Especially couples.”

His friend’s eyes widened. “Your daughter and that boy. You were playing cupid, weren’t you?”

“Not cupid, no. That’s too manipulative.” Rhoe twirled his glass, smirking and thinking of a poetic way to put it. “I’m the wind in their free-flowing sails.”

He was used to making little things like putting his students to do assignments together on purpose when he thought they were a good match, but this one was personal.

Rhoe still remembered years ago, when his family moved to the big city because of his job, and he had to witness his little girl crying because she had just been separated from her so-called boyfriend.

A decade and a half later, the memory still broke his heart. The moment Rhoe saw Rowan at the psychology building, he knew this was his chance to fix what he broke.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

Rhoe shrugged. “This is the first time I felt the need to confess.”

Murtaugh chuckled and sipped more whiskey. “How long have you been scheming like a criminal?”

“Not like that!” Rhoe protested in mock offense.

“Okay, I already know what you’re going to say.” Murtaugh waved him off and raised an eyebrow, as if daring Rhoe to disagree. “You’re only cryptic and machiavellian because you care.”

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[brunchable]

If I Would Have Known (Oneshot) || Doctor Strange × F!Reader.

Word Count: 5.6K

Themes: ANGST× 5, Mentions of Death by accident, Misunderstanding, Couple's Fight, Lots of Swearing.

A/N: I haven't written angst in a while. . . And I combined inspiration from three movies into this oneshot. I hope you like it! :D Also based on the song 'If I would I known.

It's not easy dating a hero—especially one as famous as Doctor Strange. An intelligent man with a sprinkle of ego and smugness, so they say. You were aware of what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to be in a relationship with him, but now you seem to have miscalculated your patience. 

He had a responsibility to protect this reality, and you were perfectly aware of it. But it seemed that his responsibility as your man was becoming less and less of a concern for him. While you were still in the "honeymoon" period of your relationship, which lasted for the first six or seven months, his whole universe was centred on you. You weren't accustomed to that, and it took you a little while to get used to the idea of a man treating you so well. When you did, you fell head over heels in love with his endearing antics. He lived up to that promise.

He used to sit there all day long with a mesmerised expression on his face as he listened to you rant about your experiences at work. When you were feeling down, his go-to ritual was to have a proper debate with your Samoyed, Froyo, who is quite talkative and enjoys engaging in conversation. When you weren't looking, he would sneakily leave you random post-it notes with sweet comments on them, knowing full well that he had placed them there using his portals.

You were a good partner to him and did your part as well. You gave him immediate care when he was hurt, and you fed him when he became so engrossed in his studies that he forgets to eat. Despite your desire to get to know him on a deeper level, you respect that he doesn't want to speak about certain topics, and you let it go, thinking he will tell you when he's ready. You were also the one that went with him everywhere he went in a heartbeat.

But as of late, just as you're getting closer and closer to the three-year mark of your relationship, you've been seeing less of him, like he’s hiding from you. You've been hearing his voicemail more often than you'd want to, which is frustrating for you, but you always try to put yourself in his shoes. 

You told him that maybe both of you needed a break, that maybe he just needed some space and Stephen seemed to agree with that. During that time, you left him alone, thinking that distance makes the heart grow fonder. 

And after a one week of being apart, just before the anniversary, you call him, asked him if he was ready and he said he was—he said that he missed you and couldn't wait to finally see you. So, you arranged a dinner date on your third anniversary.

•••

You chucked your phone on the table as you went straight to his voicemail again, for the fifth time. You were by yourself at a classy restaurant, sipping your third glass of wine as you waited for Stephen to show up for your anniversary date. It's been a little over an hour.

“May I get you some appetisers, Miss (L/N)?” The server asked, knowing that you’ve had nothing but wine since you arrived.

“I’m okay for now. Thank you.” You lifted your eyes and gave him a kind smile before he left you alone.

You blew some air out to calm yourself, thinking, 'He better be fighting some intergalactic octopus to be this late.’

After two hours pass by, you finally decide to just grab the bill and go home. You really just wasted your time sitting there waiting like an idiot for him. He didn’t even have the courtesy to leave you a text or call.

You were seething in anger. 

Leaving the restaurant, tipsy and disappointed, you chose to walk home alone at eleven o’clock at night. You didn't give a damn about the inappropriate looks that followed you or the cat-calling from thirsty men in the streets; maybe it was the wine that caused you to behave in such an irresponsible manner.

Your gut feeling told you that someone was following you, and you quickly lament the fact that you decided to walk home rather than call a cab. When someone grabbed your shoulder, your first line of defence was to hit them with your handbag as hard as you could. 

"Ow! (Y/N)! It's just me, Nic!" He used his arms to shield himself from your assault.

"Dr. West?" You blink hard, trying to clear your vision.

"Yeah, I've been calling, now I see that your mind is a bit cloudy." He chuckles, "Christine's wedding reception just finished, Stephen was there. . . Did you guys break up or something?"

"Oh? No—I uh. . . didn’t even know there was a wedding." You laugh, trying to mask the hurt that was forming in your chest. It was the one that felt suffocating.

"Oh. I see." Nic could see the shift to your demeanour and tries to change the subject, "I heard that you're studying to become a Doctor? Don't want to be a paramedic anymore?" 

"Y-yeah. No, I love being a paramedic, I just want to advance in my career." You smile, though it was clear to your voice that you're now upset.

"That's a good plan. I'm sure you'll exceed with high honours." He smiles, "Do you need a ride home? I can drop you off? Stephen was still there when I left." 

You swallowed and nodded, "Sure. Thank you."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You got out of Nic's car and thanked him as you hopped out. The car ride was pleasant, he just kept telling stories about how he got a new cat, that he's seeking therapy for the loss of his brother. You felt sorry for the man and you can understand because you blipped as well.

"Thank you Dr. West, I appreciate it," You thanked him as you got out of his car and before you could even shut the door he called out your name.

"Hey, (Y/N)?"

"Yeah?" You lean down to check what he wants.

Nic opened his mouth but hesitated to spit it out, "N-nothing, it isn't my place. Have a good night." He smiles a somewhat sad smile.

"Alright? Drive home safely." You returned the smile and shut his door. He honked the horn lightly as he left and you waved at him before entering your house.

Your samoyed, Froyo, immediately jumped at you for a hug, his tail wagging excessively at the sight of you, "Hey buddy! I missed you!" You knelt down and gave him kisses.

After freshening up, you prepared for bed and just stared at your phone. Before you were so angry but now you just felt lonely. Froyo's ears perked when he heard you sniffling and turned around to lay his head on your lap. 

Froyo whined softly and gently scratched you with his paw, as if telling you to stop crying. Then a soft knock followed by Stephen's voice came through the door.

"You up?" He asked as he peaked and entered the room.

You're sitting on your bed, now with your knees pulled up to your chest. When you see Stephen coming into the room, you quickly wipe your eyes, then turn the other way, "Yeah."

"You okay?" Stephen saunters in.

"I'm fine." You replied almost in a whisper.

"You sure?" He asked and stopped to stand at the end of the bed.

You nodded and cleared your throat, "What's up? What do you want?"

"I just want to say I'm sorry I missed our date, let me know how much it cost, I'll pay you back for it."

His response renders you mute. Pay me back? As if that would bring my time back.

"Can you pay me back my time?" You snapped but immediately felt guilty, "J-just leave me alone Stephen."

"I planned on going. . . It’s just I—"

You cut him off, your voice sounding more annoyed, "It doesn't fucking matter, okay? Would you just leave the room and shut the door? . . . Please." 

"I didn't know that dinner mattered all that much to you–"

"Exactly!"

"Hang on a second, could you let me talk? You told me that we needed a break, and all of a sudden you asked me to have dinner. I mean I just figured. . ."

"Oh Stephen—I-I just don't know how we got here. Our entire relationship, I have gone above and beyond for you, for us. I've cooked, I've cleaned up after your shit, I've been present every time you needed me. I support you, I supported your work. If we ever had dinner or anything, I did the plans, I took care of everything. And I just don't feel like you appreciate any of it. I don't feel you appreciate me. All I want is to know—and for you to show me that you care." Your voice cracked, red rimmed your eyes, the tears dripped down your cheeks.

"Why didn't you just say that to me?" He asked softly. His expression is pitiful.

"I tried—I've tried."

"Never like that, you might have said some things that meant to imply that, but I'm not a mind reader…" he lifted his shoulder in a shrug.

You shook your head in defeat, you sucked in a shaky breath and wiped the tears from your face with the backs of your hands, "It wouldn't matter, you are who you are. Just leave me alone ok? Right now. Just shut my door."

"Listen…" Stephen begins to slowly walk his way towards you, causing to scoot back onto the bed.

In a panicky response you say, "Alright Stephen! Just please, just leave the room. Stephen just—I don't want to be near you right now, please just shut the door, please." A single broken sob erupted from your throat. With reluctance, Stephen turned around and left you alone in your room.

It almost felt like a lost cause. It was power-draining. All these methods you'd tried. All these methods seemed to fail. He needed something? You'd be there. He needed to seek advice? You drop everything and call. Go above and beyond. That was easy. But now, the minute you needed it in return, it was difficult to return the favour, where was that love? What could you do?

All you knew how to do was give things to keep him happy. That always makes you feel happy—but now you realise you were compensating, and eventually there would be none left for you.

Your body is like an empty ink well, the contents of you splattered on the floor. And what for? You wondered. Was it worth the risk? Was it worth those glimpses of comfort and understanding that he offered you? Was it all a tremendous waste of time? 

You felt like everything you did reminded you of him. Everything you said, spoke of him. Every thought seemed to be his.

"I want it back," you whispered in the dark, "All my love. It belongs to me."

Your body shook with tears. You'd awake in the morning with a stiff back and a tear covered pillowcase. But you couldn't help it.

You were powerless. Utterly. Powerless.

Erase the pictures, the memories, the hopeful glances at a future together. Or even the simpler things. The friendship, the familiarity, the fantasies, idealised stranger that he once was. The escape, the security, the arms... the arms that embrace and hold and fortify. Take it away, please. Every slight nuance sent you spiralling back towards yourself. And that emptiness.

How could I be filled again?

You have tried. You were trying. You were almost to the point where you were sick of trying. You no longer got hungry. You could no longer sleep. You were tired constantly. Sore. Spiteful. Strange. 

Making small talk with strangers. Reaching out relentlessly to friends. And in the end, shutting yourself in and pretending you were safe. But you could no longer hear your friends, or see their faces, you read messages blindly, answered questions stupidly, attempting a casual air of comfort when, in reality, you had none to give.

Would you burst?

Or simply fade until you no longer remember your reason for sadness? Your mother said not to be sad, it's not good for you. Like you didn't already know that. Like it was a choice.

Was it?

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Three days later.

It was a cold and dark night, as if someone covered the sky with a pitch black curtain and blocked out the stars. There was a storm coming and the weather somehow reflected what you were feeling.

You're trying to keep your anger subdued. You're trying to keep yourself from turning around and punching him square between guilty eyes, but you've learned the hard way that punching isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You allowed myself several moments to calm down before you responded; by ignoring him but it wasn’t working.

You couldn’t stay in the house with him for a second longer. Making your mind up, you began packing Stephen’s things from your house. And while you did you heard the future argument in your mind – the raw words, the screams, the tears.

You were furious, steaming in the head, as if you were a volcano about to erupt while you threw a bag on the bed, hastily entering the closet and digging out Stephen's clothing. You hear him calling out your name however, his very existence was the cause of your wrath. You didn’t want to look at him and packing up his stuff seemed a good distraction.

"(Y/N), (Y/N). Can we talk?" Stephen closely followed behind you like a guilty dog, "(Y/N), all I want to do—"

"What? What? WHAT? Stephen?!" You grabbed the night lamp closest to you and threw it on the wall, causing it to shatter,"WHAT?! What do you want?!"

Stephen flinches at your hostility and lifts his hands openly towards you as if to appease a lion. He can’t believe you just did that. You had never acted so out of control. 

Still, with a cool calm voice he replies, "I just want to talk to you, that's all."

"Oh now you want to talk?" Your head bobbles as you laugh out of spite. Your heart pumped fast.

Stephen cautiously steps closer to you, "(Y/N) you know me—"

You shook your head, "No, no, I don't know you. I don't know you. The Stephen I knew told me everything." You scrutinised him head to toe, "You? I don't know who you are."

"I was wrong. . ."

"If I hadn't gone—" You pointed at yourself, lips quivering with rage, "If Nic West didn't have the heart to tell me, would you have told me about this?"

"What–are you crazy? OF COURSE," Stephen raised his voice, losing a bit of his composure, "I would've told you!"

A dry sarcastic smile morphed into your lips as you nodded with false agreement, facing away as he came closer, "Yeah—like how you told me about the Christine's wedding reception huh?" 

You turn back around to face him, "What about the parking lot? Yes~ I think I heard something about you being in the parking lot with this woman. WHAT ELSE–haven't you told me Stephen? Because all I'm hearing are the things you haven't told me."

Stephen sighed deeply, his fingers twitching by his side, "What are you talking about?"

"I want to know who she is."

"You're blowing this way out of proportion." He sighs and tilts his head back, pulling his hands through his hair.

You beeline towards him with fire in your eyes. It is true that the quiet ones have the most intimidating anger. Stephen backed up from you as you asked desperately, "Who were you with, Stephen?"

"This girl I met. It was nothing. It was nothing!" He tries to emphasise but you slapped him harshly across the face with a satisfying clap. His head whipped to the side, his jaw flexed, trying to suppress his own wrath.

"Did you have sex with her?" You whispered, "Tell me. Did you cheat on me, asshole!?" you say, with more precise enunciation this time.

"She kissed me."

For several seconds, all you can do is shake your head in disbelief. You gritted your teeth in the beat of silence, with eyes filled with tears you screamed at his face, baring your teeth. The anger in your eyes is replaced with hurt. You immediately look away once the hurt takes over, and then you proceed to grab his stuff.

"It was one kiss and it meant absolutely nothing, baby! I pushed her away, she wouldn't leave me alone," Stephen followed you, "I did such a stupid thing! It was a stupid thing. I'm so sorry."

You shot him a look that can cut through metal, your face jumbled with sorrow and resentment, "You make me sick, you fucking slut!!"

"Slut?"

"I specifically asked you, 'Did anything happen in that party?' and what did you tell me?" You paused, pointing at him accusingly, "You said, no."

Stephen doesn't answer but his phone rang in the most inconvenient of times. Your attention shot towards the phone and you snatched it out of his hands with the strength that your anger gave you.

""Madeleine"? You have her number saved into your phone? Who is this dirty whore?" You growled.

"I didn't sleep with her! I didn't–"

"No. But you wanted to, right?!"

"No!"

"Bullshit. Is she prettier than me?" You jerked your head to the side as you taunted him.

"No!"

"Liar!" You screamed, one that hurt your throat.

"I'M NOT LYING TO YOU!" Frustrated, Stephen screamed back and he felt his voice box strained after.

You talked over him while you grabbed more of his clothes from the closet and threw it at him, "What am I supposed to do now, huh? What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!? You've ruined everything!"

"Will you listen to me!? NOTHING HAPPENED!" Frustration scattered over his face before coalescing into a mask of anger.

"Nothing?! You kissed her! You were out with another woman all night. I'm pregnant. Is that fucking nothing to you?!"

"Yes—No! What!?"

"How many times did you kiss her? Don't you dare lie to me." You charged at him again then harshly poked at his chest.

Stephen lowered his gaze at you, swallowing hard, "Several times."

The image of him kissing another woman—while you took your time reflecting during time apart from each other—flashed through your mind, and your anger erupted anew, you choked back bile, "Oh, God, you make me sick!"

"But it didn't mean anything, baby. She made me realise I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know that now."

"I'm three months pregnant and you're already out trying to fuck other women! What's gonna happen 10 years from now? How could I ever trust anything you say again?!" You screamed, arms flailing and then there was silence, "Fuck you, Stephen. It's over." 

You grabbed his bag and bumped past him and ran downstairs, throwing it out on the front porch while he calls out to you.

"(Y/N), We're having a baby."

"No." You whip around, "No, I am the one having this baby. I'm the pregnant one, not you. And she's better off with no father than a lying asshole like you!"

"You're overreacting. It was a couple kisses. After three years, (Y/N), things happen."

"Not to me, they don't! GET OUT!" You growled.

"And go where (Y/N)?!" 

"TO HELL. Get out of here! Go back to fucking Madeleine!" You reached for your display samurai sword on the wall and pointed it at him.

"What, are you gonna fucking stab me, (Y/N)? I'm not leaving until we talk this through."

"Fuck you! Fuck you!" You cried and swung the sword around erratically causing Stephen to back off abruptly, he had to cast a spell which transformed the sword into butterflies to prevent you from hurting yourself. 

"FINE. I will leave! I can't bear another fucking second with you!" You swiped your keys and a coat and jogged towards your car on the driveway but Stephen grabbed your wrist and yanked you back. It was the first time he’d laid a hand on you out of anger.

"Get your hands off me,” you hissed. “Or you’ll regret it.”

"No." He replied in resolute baring his teeth. He knows you’re hurt, and he knows you hate him right now, but you have to understand how much you mean to him and how everything that happened was not his intention—because the alternative is unacceptable. It just is. He refuse to accept that this is it.

"Fine." You kneed him in the balls. Hard. Stephen released his hold on you and doubled over in pain. Without wasting any more time. You got in your car and reversed back out of the driveway with a screech. 

"(Y/N)! Come back here!!" Stephen shouted, sucking up the pain in his loins to run after your car.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The storm was relentless, and unforgiving. Giant dark clouds loomed over the night sky, but they too were barely visible in the storm. Darkness surrounded them, an abyss. 

The rain was pouring down hard and fast like never ending bullets being fired from a gun covering the windshield, the street lights were blurred dots passing by the side of the car as you drove by. The engine roared loudly like a Lion signalling its location to the rest of its group. As the windshield wipers pushed the water away you saw, even though for a split second, the long and empty road that seemed as if it went on forever, before the rain covered the windshield once more.

Reality yanked you back into the present with jarring force. You bent over double the steering wheel, chest heaving, tears streaming down your face. Huge, heaving sobs, the kind that made your nose all snotty and your stomach hurt. Thick, salty rivulets ran down your cheeks and dripped off your chin onto the floor.

Your phone begins to ring on your coat pocket. You shifted your gaze away from the road and tried to reach your phone which was on the passenger seat. Your hand slipped from the wheel, sending the car sharply swerving to the left. At that moment, the roaring of the engine and the sound of the rain hitting the windshield went soft, everything played out in slow motion as the car rolled onto its roof and continued, almost over again onto the drivers side, and then with a crunch, the windshield cracking but not breaking, the car rolled back onto the roof, finally slamming forward, the heavy engine pulled the front of the car down, sliding further into a small embankment until the car settled, diagonally balanced on the front of the roof and the hood.

You freed yourself from the seat with the intent to crawl out onto the road even though your vision was a little bit hazy. The driver-side door was not an escape. Smashed from the impact, the window was spider-webbed with cracks but still in place. You turned to the passenger-side door and it looked undamaged, at least from the inside. You twisted and crawled toward it, pulling on the passenger seat until you got your hands on the handle. It won’t open! You slammed your hand on the door again and again. You saw the door was locked. You popped the lock with your thumb, and then used the handle and it opened.

You pushed hard and it opened a bit more. Struggling to get out without using your injured left arm, you wriggled out of the door onto the dirt and bushes.

Once you got out of the car, you gathered the strength to get up and began to walk back, limping. There was no one to help you on an empty road so you’ll find it yourself. Due to the heaviness of the rain, and the shock of the pain in your head overwhelmed all your senses, you were unaware that you were losing blood. Somehow you made it nearly two kilometres before collapsing on the ground. 

All you could do was lay there on the grass, in the middle of a ditch, on a long road, staring up at the glowing winter sky. You couldn’t get up anymore. You couldn’t scream. There was no one in sight. It was just you and the stars. The last thing you saw was Stephen’s face, terrified, his hand reaching out to you calling your name before everything turned to black.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

Once in the ICU, he seemed even more frightened than before, seeing you with tubes and lines attached to you to keep you alive was the last thing he wanted. Stephen held your hand tightly and begged for you to hang on. Your parents had to fly back to the country early after hearing about your accident. 

"Doctor Strange. . . there's a woman here insisting to see you."

Stephen turns around and sees the woman that was the centre of your arguments. Stephen shot up and glared at her, "You got some nerve stepping foot in here." 

"Stephen I'm so sorry I came onto you that night—I was drunk, I wasn't thinking clearly. I didn’t know–" 

"I don't want to hear it. This is all your fault. Get out." 

"I'm sorry, I just came to pay my respect—" She found the courage and stepped forward to give him the flowers.

"Pay your respects? My girlfriend is not dead."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Get out." He whispered and when she just stood there, he erupted, "I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT!" He threw the flowers back at her like a baseball pitcher, then shoved her out of the room heartlessly.

Male nurses rushed towards Stephen as he lashed out, holding him back, "Sir, calm down."

"Don't you dare show your face to me again you fucking whore!" He screamed so harsh that his throat feels as if it’s ripping apart. Stephen thrashed against the two male nurses holding him back, eyes red with anger, "I'll fucking kill you if you do!"

"Ma'am please leave!" The nurse urged Madeleine to go, "Right now!"

"Sir! Don't make us call security." The nurse threatened Stephen.

"I'm calm! I'm calm!" Stephen yanked his arm out of the nurse's grip and stormed outside to get some air.

"Go out and get some air Doctor, you haven't left her side for over twelve hours."

Stephen straightened his top and stormed out of the ward. After filling his stomach and drinking his third cup of coffee, he goes back to the ward. His chest constricted when he heard the rapid beeping of the alarm, the all too familiar sound of emergency. Staff ran with the resus trolley, the ECG machine. 

“Doctor Evans, room 212, immediately, room 212.”

“Get a resus unit in here now nurse, how the hell did her stats drop so fast? She was doing well earlier.”

“She’s asystole doctor.”

“5 of epi, nurse, continue CPR, where’s that resus unit?”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

Stephen could sense the eeriness in the air, it pierced the back of his neck like a sharp knife. The sound of people talking around him slowly fizzled into nothing but white noise. A cold drop of water fell directly onto his forehead and slid down like a cube of ice. Everyone had pulled out their umbrellas but he just stood there, frozen, surrounded by them. 

He wanted to cry but tears were stuck in his eyes, he wanted to shout but he couldn’t swallow the gulp of fact that he now has to face, so he was numb, with eyes filled with seas of tears but never falling. He couldn’t forget the variety of smells that were in the air. Odours of burnt rubber, scorched metal, and freshly cut vegetation were pungent and strong, it happened to him too.

He stood there surrounded by the darkness, being engulfed by it, drowning in it, as if it were grabbing him and pulling him with all its might, and he could not escape its grasp. Stephen looked at the light oak wood coffin slowly being lowered into the ground, which inside, housed what remained of you and the unborn child. Voices in his head screamed. The voice of your mother when she told him it was his fault. The sight of her leaning into the casket—the same one he was too guilty to look into—tears streaming down her face. As your mother stared into the casket of her daughter. 

"I'm sorry—I'm so so sorry." Stephen whispered and left the flowers he knew you loved beside your tombstone, he saw your parents wailing at the corner of his eye, Froyo laying down at their feet with his ears drooped. He hated every moment of the funeral because deep down, he knew that this was his fault. All this grief and sorrow that he and others are facing are because of him. He knew that if only he went to dinner with you—none of this would have happened; the argument, you running away. This was a pain that no time can reduce, he would have to deal with the shroud of guilt placed over him and regret his actions for the rest of his life.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

Stephen! Stephen! Stop this at once! You'll cause an incursion and you'll be corrupted!! Wong's voices echoed in his head.

Sorry Wong but I just can't accept it. I need to see her again and this is the only way.

Covered in beads of cold sweats, Stephen woke up panting and his heart racing, hand over the centre of his chest, the pain he was feeling in his heart still lingered. He looked around the room, confused, unsure his surroundings were real. He looked at the space next to him where he expect you to be but was empty. Stephen rolled out of bed in a panic, not bothering to put on a shirt and ran out of the room. 

He rushed downstairs, and entered every room in search of you. When he arrived in the kitchen he saw you humming as you flipped pancakes. 

Then out of nowhere, he puts his arms around you and embraces your smaller frame tightly against his broad chest. Stephen plants kisses on your shoulders. You flinch, feeling ticklish, "Good morning to you too, Mister."

"It's Doctor."

"Okay, Mister Doctor."

"Very funny."

You giggled and pivoted around in his arms to face him. You touch his shoulders and feel how tense he is. Like he's holding something in. The smile faded from your face when you saw the sad look in his eyes. "Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

He shakes his head and barely even whispers a 'no.' He brings his other hand up to yours, which is still gripping his shoulder. He squeezes both of his hands around yours desperately, then tilts his face toward his shoulder. He thought he was never going to see you again, yet here you are—in the flesh. Breathing, existing. . .living. He kisses the top of your hand, and you feel a tear fall against your skin. 

"Why are you crying?" You quickly turned off the stove and then cupped his face between your hands. Your thumb brushing off the tears that were dripping down his cheeks, "Stephen?"

He allowed himself to sink into your comforting embrace and took an inhale, he stared into your eyes deeply with his tear soaked eyes, as if it was the last time he was going to see it. A sob breaks free from his chest, and reaches forward and presses his lips to yours.

You pull away after one long kiss, "Stephen, say something. You're scaring me."

"I just—I had a dream that I lost you and when I woke up without you by my side I panicked." Stephen's voice turned raspy, you'd never seen him so in distress that it hurts to even look at him like this, "I just—I love you so damn much. I don’t want to ever lose you, losing you would be losing my life. I can handle a good beating or–or being stabbed but the thought of losing you is something I can't handle."

A small smile twitched in your lips, "Be still, my love. I'm not going anywhere, look at me." You tilt your head to connect with his eyes, "You’re stuck with my goofy butt for the rest of your life, no force in this universe can take me away from you. Not even death—because I'll haunt you down if you try to replace me."

Stephen laughs at your threat and finally you feel his shoulders relax, "Me? Replace you? That's absurd."

"You want to know what else is absurd?" You asked him.

"What?"

"I woke up this morning and suddenly wanted to eat bananas. So I made banana pancakes." You chirped with a tight lipped smile.

"That is absurd. . . You hate bananas." He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

You nodded and turned again to face the stove this time to preheat the now cold pan.

"(Y/N). . . Are you hiding something from me?" He asked quizzically, eyes narrowing out of suspicion.

"No~ I don't know what you're talking about." You sang and shrugged.

"Are you carrying something?" He trailed off, "Maybe, something like. . .a baby?" 

You gasped, "How did you know?! Are you psychic now too?" Stephen gives you a look, "Oh. Your dream?" 

Stephen nodded.

"Well? Say something? Are you happy? Sad? What kind of expression is that?" 

Stephen slowly cracks a smile and picks you up by the waist, spinning you around. You screamed and laughed, asking for him to put you down, "I'm over the moon! Let's get married."

"What?" You swallow hard and slowly look up at his face.

"Marry me."

"Stephen, we're already married." You laugh and slapped his chest teasingly, "What's gotten into you?" You shake your head and pull yourself away from him to continue cooking pancakes.

"Nothing—I'm fine. Perfectly fine. I'm right where I'm supposed to be."

TAGS: @goldencherriess @lokislov3 @strangesweetheart @mydearalmira @veryladyqueen @seasonofthenerd @artsherlocked @bobateadaydreams @classicrebound @sobeautifullyobsessed @winsteria @allie131313 @gaitwae @sherlux @the-royal-petals @keistange @omgstarks @evelynrosestuff @withalittlehoney @strangeions @gwephen @cemak @patbrdac @siredlust @downtownshabby @nicoletk @lilithskywalker @youcantseem3 @samisubi @strangelockd @bloodyxsaint @lady-harvey @paola-carter @jotaros-bara-tiddies @delightfulheartdream @strangefilms @strangeobsessed @thealleydog @jyessaminereads

#stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange imagine #stephen strange x you #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x you #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict cumberbatch x reader #dr strange x reader #benedict cumberbatch x you #doctor strange onshot #doctor strange fanfic #stephen strange fanfic #Spotify

[number-one-shadisper-shipper]

For the emoji fanfic writer ask

🤡😈💞

Thanks for the ask! ☺️

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Ooh this is from a oneshot that I haven't quite gotten finished yet, but I have a great moment I've been working on with Team Dark. Part of the story takes place at a doctor's office, and then I got the most amazing wonderful image in my head of Omega getting a lollipop like they give you and just holding this teeny-tiny lollipop between two of his giant fingers and being as happy with it as a 5-year-old. The whole scene is just so silly and dumb (and a needed refresher after the angst of the rest of it)

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

Hehehehe. Chapter 3 of my Whispers in the Dark fic. (Playfully mean or just malicious? You decide 😅). Minor spoilers although it's only a tiny bit into it, but Mimic the Octopus is trying to find some information he can use against Shadow and ends up finding a file about Maria. I've gotten at least two different comments saying "You f****ing wouldn't", so I think it's working 😈 (You'll have to read the rest of the fic to find out if I would or not)

💞 Who's your comfort character?

Tails! Especially baby/toddler Tails. I need to write more with him! I do give him too much angst but I just love him. Sonic is pretty far up there too, because he's so fun and silly and always has a quip up his sleeve.

#fic ask games #ask game #thank you for the ask! #sonic fanfic #fanfics #fanfic writing #fic writing #writing

[imagine-a-dream]

Don't blame me

Otto Octavius x female!reader

summary: You are a superhero that takes the job of protecting citizens after the sudden disappearance of Spider-Man. Things do not always go according to plan, but sometimes they turn out even better than you imagined.warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, vaginal fingering, dry humping. requested by none other than my thirstword count: 3235AN: You can read it on AO3 as well and there's version in Russian here (idk just in case). Part 2 'Bruises' (flashbacks)

Your back hits the wall with a loud thud, the force of it knocks the air out of your lungs and the world goes dark for just a moment. But you don’t have time to recover; two metal claws immediately dig into your shoulders, tearing the fabric of the superhero suit and the delicate skin under with the ease of a red-hot knife through butter. The cuts are shallow, barely bleeding, and it hurts your pride more than brings you any real damage. The lack of oxygen burns your lungs and you take a deep breath, greedily swallowing the cool evening air.

You snap your head up, and the silhouette of the master and creator of the mechanisms pinning your body, is stepping out of the dark. His regal figure approaches you slowly, if not reluctantly, and his shadow swallows all the light around you hiding you from the whole world. It seems like the darkness comes from within himself.

Octavius stops right in front of you and only by a slight tilt of his head, you realize that he's looking you over.

“Here you are, birdie.” His voice is steady, simply stating the fact. Here you are, indeed.

You can’t see his eyes behind the dark lenses of his glasses, but you just know that they have the same malicious excitement of an animal finally catching his prize after many days of chasing. For some reason, this comparison amuses you. Between the two of you, it’s debatable who is the real prize here.

To be completely honest, you had no desire to break out of the three-fingered paws on your shoulders. Not, when you had their owner right when you wanted him after many weeks of seemingly fruitless flirting. You did wiggle a little, even if just for a show, but other than that you did not make a move to free yourself, arms hanging loosely at your sides. If it weren't for the sunglasses hiding his eyes, you could swear you'd be able to see a reflection of your own, almost sadistical, enjoyment of the current situation.

The light from a passing car illuminates his face just for a few moments, and in the darkness of the alley where this madman lured you in, or more like thrown you down from the top of the near building, your eyes manage to catch a crooked smirk with a slight touch of pride. You want to wipe it off his face with either a sandpaper or your own lips, you're fine with either.

He opens his plump lips, no doubt to throw some witty and clever remark you way, that you will replay in your head for the next few days in the loneliness of your apartment, but this game of cat-and-mouse turned you on so much already, that the next words came out of your mouth before you can even think of it, bypassing any stopping points in your feverishly excited brain:

“Easy, tiger! I do like it rough, you got me here, but maybe buy me dinner first, eh?”

He stops dead in the tracks with his mouth agape, and you don't even try to stop your mouth from speaking your thoughts anymore: “Though we can skip the dinner. With you looking like a damn five-course meal and a dessert… I bet I'll be full enough for the evening.”

You watch the change of expression on his broad face with almost childish excitement. The poor man seems to be so taken aback by this ridiculous and out of place comments that don’t even notice his metal devices unclenching, releasing your rather stiff shoulders from their grip.

If you were a ‘real’ heroine, like the notorious Avengers or X-Men, so almighty and full of honor and dignity, this small interaction would be a part of a distraction plan that would offer you some time to escape or strike another blow to the villain, taking advantage of his confusion… But you were not like them.

You believed that lying to yourself was a bad and useless habit, so you were always willing to admit even the darkest of your desires. And at the very top of this not very long wish-list for the past few weeks was him.

You shoot Otto a playful wink and leant forward, raising a hand as if to cup his face, but the supervillain recoils and takes a step back, almost stumbling over one of his appendages. You find his reaction almost comical and can’t help but laugh out loud. He clearly w as not expecting such a turn of events and the furrowed brows tell you that he’s quite angry with your amusement. He opens his mouth again, but you happily interrupt him once more:

“Aw, don’t pout, Doctor, I am serious! Don’t blame me, though, when it’s all your fault. I mean just look at you, such a tall, strong man and a genius at that. And these tentacles…” With each word, you took a step forward until your palm finds its place on the lapel of his inner coat, barely grazing over the only exposed area of skin. “I can only imagine how useful they can be.”

You grin broadly, noting with pride how even in the darkness of the street you still can clearly see the blush coloring his face and spread further down his neck. It’s even adorable, you think, if you forget about his failed attempt to rob a jewelry store not that many hours ago. That poor security guard must be in great pain with this many broken bones.

Despite the obvious lewd subtext behind your words, the man stands still, only titling his head slightly, and don't make another move. You were foolishly hoping that maybe this way he finally catches on your true intentions, but it seems like the luck isn’t on your side today. You're almost disappointed.

“Shame. Judging by our previous encounter, I thought you would be… braver.”

You click your tongue on the roof of your mouth disappointedly and give his body a dirty look over. Your gaze lingers on his broad chest, slightly glistening in the dim light of street lamps with tiny beads of perspiration all over it. You stare for a few moments longer than the situation requires. And definitely much longer than any norms of decency allows.

You let your covered thumb connect with his skin finally, giving it a gentle whisper of a caress, and breath out dreamily.

“But what a sight…”

“Oh, you little minx.” A barely audible whisper reaches your ears and you find yourself pressed against the nearest wall for the umpteenth time of the evening. You cry out in surprise, digging your fingers into the soft flesh of his chest in an attempt to stabilize yourself. One of his prosthetics quickly snakes his way around your arms, connecting them tightly behind your back, and the other wraps around your legs, completely depriving you of the chance to move and escape their death grip. The devices raise you slightly to Otto’s face level.

With a quick movement of his gloved hand he takes off the glasses, finally revealing to you his beautiful chocolate eyes framed by thick black eyelashes. He narrows his gaze, locking your eyes, and you almost choke on your breath of the intensity of it, feeling more vulnerable than ever. Despite the life-threatening situation, you can't help but notice his pupils dilating wildly and consuming the soft brown, leaving only blackness.

He pulls himself closer, completely covering your body with his own. His chest is pressing against yours so hard that you can feel how each of his breaths pushes you deeper into the wall; the uneven surface of the bricks scratches your back, but it only turns you on more. Your faces are dangerously close to each other, so close that his breath burn your lips, and the tip of his long, slightly hooked nose touches the short hairs on the end of your nose, tickling it.

You take a deep breath through your nose and the bitter and distinct smell of cooling asphalt and gasoline hits your nostrils; somewhere in the back you can hear barely audible-expensive Cologne with a light touch of sweat and metal. The wild mixture of aromas is suffocating, it settles on the insides of your throat like a sticky veil, and your head starts to spin with intoxication. Or is it from the feeling of his hot body pressing yours into the cooling hardness of the bricks? The contrast of temperatures makes the feeling of sweet anticipation spread through the body like wildfire and you shiver against him which doesn’t go unnoticed.

Otto chuckles darkly and tilts his head just so that his lips are barely grazing over the corner of yours now; his nose pokes your cheek right under the edge of the mask that hides the upper half of your face, protecting your identity. You gulp, unable to move from the sudden intimacy of his movements. He ghosts his lips over your face, moving agonizingly slow, until he rises to the very lobe of your ear; to this moment every inch of your skin feels like it’s melting under his touch.

Your eyes screw shut when Octavius presses his lips on the inner shell of your ear. His deep rumbling voice flows into your ear like liquid lava and your body responds with a strong, almost painful, spasm in your lower abdomen.

“You really think you’re ready for me to be brave, huh?”

You find the strength to exhale a stubborn “Surprise me, Doctor.”

His dark chuckle sends a wave of electricity through your whole body. You can feel it traveling from the very tips of your fingers to stop in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh, damn you, calling me Doctor like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it.”

Your brain is so far away that you can’t come up with any sort of at least somewhat believable lie. You just nod, admitting the truth behind his words. And it earns you a very pleased “Bad girl.”

The next moment he sink his teeth into the flesh under your earlobe without any warning and you already feel a bruise forming on the delicate skin. A gasp escapes your lips and his wet, thick tongue slides like a snake over the burning skin, apologizing for the caused pain. Your lower lips are throbbing with desire, walls clenching with only one wish; of him inside, stretching you to the hilt. And you feel almost ashamed, but you push these feelings away, focusing on other, more important sensations.

Otto leaves a trail of wet kisses all the way down to the collarbones and stops only when his lips reach the collar of your supersuit. Soft breeze pleasantly cools your now wet neck and the soft sound of your moan seems so foreign that at first you don’t realize that it comes from your own throat.

“Won’t you look at yourself, birdie. So quiet, so… submissive. I like it.”

He’s cheeky, knowing exactly what en effect he has on you, and you can hear it in his voice, but it doesn’t matter anymore. The tentacles tighten their grip around your wrists and ankles and you hiss at the tug.

"Easy, boys. We don't want to break her yet."

You feel the tips of his fingers wandering around your chest, grazing over it tentatively. They wander over the surface of the suit, drawing obscure patterns on it. The touch is so light it nearly drives you mad and you arch your back to feel him, but he pulls his hand back just in time so you don’t have much-needed attention. You whine pathetically and he shakes his head, disapproving of your impatience.

He then raises his hand as if to cup your cheek but stops halfway and changes the trajectory. You’re about to ask him what is that he’s doing, but the question is stuck in your throat when you see his teeth ever so gently bite into the hem of leather glove on his middle finger.

Enchanted, you watch his hand slip oh so smoothly out of the piece of clothing and it hang empty, captured by his teeth. You let out a choked moan and his small smirk turns into a wide grin. That bastard is clearly enjoying your reactions. He quickly pulls the glove off his other hand and puts them both in his pocket. Not wasting another moment, his hot palms land on your breasts and he squeeze it gently. You groan simultaneously.

The heat of his hands warms your insides more and the flames of desire spread through your body, quickly turning into a wildfire, burning out the last remains of any other feelings but lust. Doctor massages your breasts and lets out a hoarse moan. You lick your lips at the sound, your walls flattering in need of attention. One hand travels carefully from your chest to your stomac; his palm glides down over your body gently, stroking every curve on the way, and stops right above the belt.

He turns his palm so that his fingers face your womanhood, the movement of his fingers tickle your soft stomach and the muscles contract; it gives Otto enough space to snake his hand under the belt inside your pants. He stops abruptly and looks up at you, questioning. But he doesn't need to ask, because at this point you’d willingly do any damn thing to feel him inside of you. Only after your affirmative nod he allows his hand to travel further in your underwear. The other hand moves to the waist, fingers diggint into your love handles.

He reach your pubis and hover over the labia, teasing the swollen lips with a whisper of a touch. You whine, and try to lower yourself in a pathetic attempt to get at least some satisfaction, but Octavius just clicks his tongue and continues the sweet torture.

You can’t take it anymore and despite your better judgment whisper feverishly: “Please… please, please...”

His voice is dripping with smugness when he asks. “Please what, darling?”

“Please!” You raise your voice in despair. “Please… touch me.”

He hums satisfied. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Suddenly his middle finger roughly press on the head of your pulsating bud and your whole body jolts in shock. You groan loudly, voice hoarse and shaky. He exhales loudly and mumbles under his nose, you only hear something along the lines of ‘already’ and ‘wet’, but you don't even think of asking him about it. By this point, you don't care about anything in this world but this man.

His strokes are gentle and slow and it makes your hips thrust on their own accord. Skillful fingers working on you with care for a few more minutes, and in any other circumstances this kind of attention would be a pleasant start, but right now it's too slow for your liking. Your heavy head falls on his shoulder, you whine and writhe under his touch like a bitch in the heat. You feel the pressure building inside of you slowly, but it’s not enough, and in a pathetic attempt to reach your peak faster you squeeze your thighs to press his hand closer to your core.

You feel his body rumble with soft breathy laugh and his chest vibrates under you, stimulating sensitive nipples and making you shudder. Mercifully, he dips index finger fist, and then the middle finger right into your slick opening, thumb taking their place now, rubbing your bundle of nerves. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust to the stretch of his thick fingers and start to move them inside of you. Your breath increases and comes out in short whimpers when he fastens his pace and you hide your face at the base of his neck breathing in his scent.

Even, through the pampering blood in your ears and street noise around you hiding spot you can hear wet sounds of his digits pushing in and out of you in a rapid pace. You think that your moans and heavy breathing can be heard from miles away, but all of the thoughts in your head disappear when Otto angles his palm and insert a third finger and the pressure of his digit on your throbbing bud increases; the pace of his pumping and the force of his hand are so perfect that it makes you see stars.

Your thighs shake from how good he makes you feel. Your leg twitches involuntarily and your knee ends up captured right between his legs and under his crotch. His bulge pokes in your upper thigh, and you feel his huge excitement. The connection makes him groan loudly and his hips thrusts in your leg.

His fingers on your waist tighten harder and you’re almost sure that he’ll leave his fingerprints there for you to remember. You strain your thigh a little and he nearly chokes on his gasp. He pulls into you even closer, squeezing you with his weight as if he wants to merge with you. He rolls his hips once, twice, and it’s not long before he’s humping your leg without a care in the world. He’s pleasuring himself with your body, hips rubbing his member in sync with his fingers thrusting into you, massaging your walls so deliciously.

His low almost animalistic growls pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're close, so close...

And then the world explodes, your walls clenching violently around him and body convulsing in the world-shattering orgasm; your mouth opens widely in a soundless scream. To prevent the shouting of his name in bliss for every soul to hear, you clench your jaws and your teeth dig into his neck, leaving a dark mark for him to remember. Octavius groans and increases his speed, helping you ride out your last waves of pleasure and chasing his own release.

Your body goes limp on him with a final sob; he makes a few more sharp thrusts and stiffen at last, shaking. His breathy moan gets lost somewhere in the crown of your hair. You stand there for several minutes, breathing heavily. After some time, when your breath is steady and heart is calm, he carefully removes his hand, covered with your fluids, and wipes it on the inner fabric of his coat. He takes a step back and the restraints on your arms and legs loosens, and you almost fall to the ground, legs weak and boneless, but he catch you just in time.

He gives you a few more minutes to recover, hugging your smaller form almost lovingly, until pulling away completely.

“Well, I must admit it was a pleasant turn of today’s events, even if a bit unexpected.”

His upper claw returns his hat, that fell off his head in a fit of passion, to its rightful place. Otto adjusts it to his liking, looks over your ruined suit, and bows in a mocking manner, holding the brim of his hat with two fingers.

“Until next time, Y/n.”

He all but purr and your legs nearly give up from the sinful tone of his voice.

It’s only when his figure disappears in the night streets you realize that he called you by your name. You real one.

“Wait, what the f…”

masterlist | request rules

#Otto Octavius #Doc Ock #Doctor Octopus #Otto Octavius x reader #Doc Ock x reader #Doctor Octopus x reader #Otto Octavius imagine #Doc Ock imagine #Doctor Octopus imagine #Otto Octavius oneshot #Doc Ock oneshot #Doctor Octopus oneshot #Spider man #Spider man 2 #alfred molina #female reader

[multifandomwritings]

Otto and As The World Falls Down-David Bowie, please! If you’re willing to make it super fluffy I’d love that, but you gotta do you, you know? 💕

Will do! :)

Valentine's song prompts | As The World Falls Down (Otto Octavius)

Fandom/characters: Marvel/Spiderman (Otto Octavius, reader)

Song: 47. As The World Falls Down - David Bowie

Genre: Romance/fluff (with a little bit of angst but not much)

Format: Oneshot

Word count: 1272

Summary: You catch the eye of 'Doc Ock', who isn't nearly as menacing as you would expect — at least to you.

Notes: Gifs are never mine, btw! (Unless otherwise stated) I actually love this song for him?? It's one of my favorite songs anyway but it suits him! Sorry this one has taken a minute, I have written this now three times :')) Couldn't decide how I wanted to do it! (Also! Part of this takes place after the events of No Way Home. So there might be spoilers!) And sorry for the really brief summaries?? I have no idea what to write for those ever lol

At first, you thought you were unlucky. You, of all people, had caught the eye of 'Doctor Octopus', as he was now being called. A city-wide menace, a fiend who robbed banks and took old ladies hostage. Figures that he'd have eyes for you.

You weren't entirely complaining, though. He did have his charms, although you knew no one else would believe you. He was generally hated among the city's citizens, but you were beginning to find him strangely endearing.

When he first approached you, you were suspicious and hesitant — fearful, even. But only for a moment. He was different with you, having observed you moments before, gaining a quick attraction and becoming curious. He was charismatic and charming, and a complete flirt.

Despite your intrigue, you knew better than to get involved with someone like him. He was respectful, only pursuing you up to the extent you allowed. More and more, you were having a difficult time keeping him at arms length. You could hardly get his brown eyes and wicked grin out of your head, or the way he chuckled when he said something that flustered and surprised you. He was so straightforward about his interest in you, you could hardly handle it. It wasn't often someone like him would randomly appear in your life, and it grew harder and harder to deny your own feelings for him.

Your time with him was pure magic. Sometimes he hid his identity as best as he could, taking you to intimate, beautiful places and spending time with you as any other couple would. You'd whisper over candlelit dinner in the back of a dimly lit cafe, neither of you taking your eyes off the other. He'd hold your hand and walk with you through the park, unsuspecting people smiling at what a cute couple you were. At first, you wondered what you were doing with him at all. But he made you feel the way you'd read about in novels, and heard about in songs. You couldn't help it.

Sometimes, time with him was different, though — far beyond what any normal couple would do. He'd carry you to the tops of the highest buildings, holding you as you looked out onto the city together, whispering little reassurances and grinning to himself at your reactions.

But even without all that, you were beginning to care for him on a level you had tried to avoid. Despite everything, he was so full of love and passion and charm. He held onto your every word, listening to you the way not many do. Slowly, you couldn't believe you had ever thought it was bad luck you had caught his eye. You were so glad your paths had crossed and that he had come into your life.

***

It had been days since you saw Otto. It was unusual, as he usually made an effort to let you know he was alright. You sat up late, stomach knotted with worry.

Hours passed spent uselessly, you knew, but you were too consumed with negative thoughts to focus on anything else.

Thankfully, you were soon put out of your misery.

A knock at the door startled you. It was too late, and normally that sound at such an hour would be alarming. But it jolted you upright, prompting you to make your way to the door as fast as you could, hopeful and expectant.

Relief swelled through you at the sight of him, smiling just as he always did. You smiled, throwing your arms around him and burying your face into the crook of his neck. He let out a surprised laugh, slowly resting his hands on your back. You breathed him in, comforted even by his smell. You would feel ridiculous if you weren't so relieved.

For weeks, you worried something was going to happen to him. Things kept escalating and it was only a matter of time. You tried not to let it show, but you couldn't help it. He was too precious to you now, and you wanted him safe. The worst scenarios had been playing on repeat in your head for hours, and you could finally relax.

You expected he'd make some snarky remark about how much you missed him, but instead, he only held you. After a moment, you began to question why he had left you to worry like that, pulling away and giving him a dirty look.

"What happened?" You demanded. He only stared, before gesturing his head forward to come inside before explaining. You pursed your lips, stepping aside and shutting the door behind him.

***

You stared in disbelief after a lengthy story about alternate universes and multiple Spider-mans. Not long ago, you wouldn't have believed a word of it. But there was a slight change in his demeanor that let you know he was being honest, at least about his inhibitor chip.

...Which led you to wonder, had any of your relationship even been sincere?

If he wasn't even really in control of his own mind, perhaps he'd come to set things straight with you now that he was. Maybe your reaction at the door was entirely unsolicited. Maybe you should be bracing yourself for whatever else he had to say.

"I-" You stopped yourself, feeling selfish for even being worried about it, considering what he had been through, "Are you alright?"

He smiled warmly, your heart instantly swelling at the sight of it.

"I'm fine. Better, actually," He replied.

You forced a smile, and nodded. It was a relief to hear, but you couldn't help the sinking feeling that was beginning to spread throughout you.

"Y/N...I don't want you to think this changes anything," He said, stirring you from your uneasy mind. You stared, searching his expression as he continued, "I might not have been entirely in control of myself, but I was still me."

"Are you sure?" You asked after a small pause, your voice weak from nerves, "Because I don't want you to feel pressured, or obligated-"

"No, I don't," He firmly replied, eyebrows raised slightly. He stood up from his seat across from you, and sat next to you instead, eyeing you seriously. He seemed the same. Your heart raced as you listened, "Meeting you has been the one good thing to come of all this. I mean it."

You smiled reluctantly, still unconvinced, but relieved at his words. He was so close now, so warm next to you. Your face heated at even his slightest touch, his hands now in yours, as he stared at you with the same intensity he always had.

"Still..." You began, despite yourself, "If you want to take it slow, or you want space, I'll understand."

"Do you want space?" He asked.

"No!..." You blurted out, earning a single raised brow and a satisfied grin. You scoffed, earning an apologetic chuckle as he squeezed your hand in his. Not everything was from lack of his inhibitor chip, then, you thought — he was as teasing as ever.

"I don't either. I mean it," He said, still smiling at your quick, certain response. You glared, unable to keep a smile from emerging.

He lifted your chin between his fingers and pressed his lips to yours, grinning into your kiss as a sharp breath escaped you. He pulled you closer, hand at your lower back, and pulled his lips away from yours, to your disappointment. Only long enough, however, to examine you — your heavy eyelids, and flustered expression; the urgency and disappointment that you searched him with. He grinned, eyes full of something that signaled he wasn't so different now, after all.

#otto octavius x reader #otto octavius x you #otto octavius imagines #doc ock x reader #doc ock x you #doc ock imagines #doc ock imagine #doc ock headcanons #otto octavius imagine #otto octavius x y/n #doc ock x y/n

[themculibrary]

Hey! Do you have any long super duper fluffy irondad oneshots?

You betcha! Let me know if you want anymore :)

5 times Tony tries to tell Peter he loves him (ao3) - madasthesea

Summary: and one time Peter actually hears him

A Symphony of Color (ao3) - fourdaysofrain

Summary: The first thing Peter does once he can effectively maneuver the compound with his crutches is find a notebook that can fit in his pocket. He grabs a pen from one of the many junk drawers and starts a list of everyone he’s talked to so far.

Mr. Stark - Brown, the filling in cinnamon buns, the teddy bear in the baby photo hanging on the fridge.

Aunt May - Dusty pink, Grandma Parker’s old couch.

Pepper - Silver, fancy necklace chains, handcuffs.

He taps the end of the pen against his chin. He needs to talk to more people.

---

Peter wakes up with synesthesia after a fight.

I Will Soften Every Edge (ao3) - losingmymindtonight

Summary: “You’re telling me,” he swallowed, “that my body thinks I’m Peter’s dad?” “And it has prepared itself for parenthood in response, yes.”

--

After a simple brain scan, F.R.I.D.A.Y. reveals something that Tony already knew, but may not have been ready to accept. Luckily, Peter's always there to help him re-find his footing.

make it rain (ao3) - ciaconnaa

Summary: Every time that Peter needs money, it's never a problem for Tony. Tony has money. Lots of money. Giving money is something he's really good at. He just wishes the kid asked for more than crumpled dollar bills for vending machines and spare change for gum. Because apparently, stacks of one-hundred dollar bills are "too much" and cause a "hassle" because cashiers don't have enough "change" or whatever. Pfft. Change. As if Tony ever asks for the change.

or;

five times Peter asked Tony for money, and the one time Tony asked Peter.

That's how you and I will be (ao3) - frostysunflowers

Summary: Tony cuddles babies.

Tony Stark cuddles babies.

Iron Man is good with babies.

No matter which way Peter tries to spin this newfound knowledge in his mind, it still doesn’t make sense.

The Octopus Files (ao3) - edibna

Summary: Peter is sick and somehow, Tony is the one tasked with taking care of him.

Tony didn’t realize what he was turning into a dad, but the kid going full octopus mode was to blame.

Why Don't you Put that F*cking Phone Down? (ao3) - GinnyRose

Summary:

Peter, for once in his life, was not excited about something Avengers related. If May or Mr. Stark knew, they would have marched him straight into a doctor’s office. But it was true. Peter was not excited for something Avengers related and it was all Ned’s fault. Not really Ned’s fault. Kind of Ned’s fault. It wasn’t really, but Peter was going to blame him anyway. Or: Peter would rather spend his weekend snuggled up with Ned but duty calls in the form of a surprise weekend trip to the Avenger's Compound. Thank god for cellphones and unlimited texting.

- Tori

#answered #anonymous #found #irondad #peter parker #tony stark #fluff #oneshots #list

[oveliagirlhaditright]

In the year of 2021, no one cares about Tru Calling... and yet when I thought of writing some mermaid AU for mermay, Tru and Jack were the first ones to come to mind. I hope someone enjoys... Oneshot. Little Mermaid inspired.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31612613

Safe

Tru was a mermaid, who honestly loved her kingdom… but she longed for the land above, for all of the treasures that were housed there.

Or moreover... Tru loved what she had spied about humanity’s medicine, and she wanted to find a way to bring it into the sea. But she also knew this idea would never go over well, since her people rightfully hated what humans did to the environment.

Though what if she could find a way to heal fellow merpeople, without them ever learning that the knowledge came from the surface? It was Tru’s plan to try and get some of the stuff, and keep everyone in the dark about it, but there was also the chance she was too popular for that to happen. Since most of the time, mermen and mermaids alike followed their princess all over.

And it was that reason was why she'd decided that she needed his help: her mother’s enemy’s adopted son, who was worse than he was.

But desperate times called for desperate measures, so Tru was about to try and swim to Jack’s master's grotto… but before she could do that, she was stopped by none other than Jack himself.

And Tru would have blamed his suddenly being so close to her, on him secretly being a mind-reader or something… but she knew that it was no doubt because he was obsessed with her and liked to follow. So, why was she trusting him again? Tru asked herself, biting into her lip something fierce.

"Jack, what are you-"

But Tru’s words were cut off like scuba divers often were by seaweed, as the octopus swam over to Tru and twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. Tru hated to admit that she somehow felt… content like this in his presence, but she truthfully was.

"Off to see if anyone down here can help you become a doctor?" Jack deadpanned; and he guessed Tru’s thoughts as easily as one could figure that it was going to storm, just by seeing how dark it was.

Tru did not want to dignify this with a response, and  instead wanted to try to zing him with one of her own deductions, while swimming out of this Trench and into shallower waters. "I assume, Jack, that you're only here to live vicariously through me? Didn't you say once, that you also wanted to study herbs, too... but every time you do, you get sent back in time to before you got close to them?"

And Tru had expected that Jack may do many things with her accusation: to deny it, perhaps. Or to be angry that she'd guessed right… or even to be sad about his awful plight.

But what Tru had not expected, was for Jack to grab her and kiss her, and for her to surprisingly not hate it and pull him closer.

Jack was being shockingly gentle with her, Tru thought, just lightly pressing their lips together and wrapping his arms around her waist. It was Tru who was being more aggressive, in running her hands through her enemy's hair and wrapping her tail around his left side.

As they kissed, Tru thought she could guess Jack's meaning for all of this. He was probably saying: 'Thank you for believing me, about the horrible powers I got from Richard. And for hopefully realizing that when I go back in time and then travel back to the present, looking like I had my hand in the cookie jar, I really didn't do anything.'

And it hurt Tru that he had so much guilt about him, she supposed, but not enough so to really be able to put her finger on all of it. Which was why she still had questions when they finally broke apart. "Jack, what-"

The question Tru had begun to ask, was answered by the sadness in his eyes. And as if to prove his misery even moreso, he then swam up up up towards the sun, as if he were going to let it fry him, and Tru followed suit.

"If I help you get these meds, Tru, promise me you'll find a way to heal me from what I can do first."

And Tru gasped then; not because she couldn't believe Jack would ask that of her, but because he'd doubted that she would be good enough to do that in the first place. Shouldn’t the fact that she wanted to save people’s lives have been a big enough clue about that? "Yeah, Jack. Of course. I was planning on owing you a solid if you did this for me."

With clear relief written on his face then, Jack swam down back towards Tru.

And she thought that if she was going to operate on sea creatures first—because she did eventually want to get to humans somehow; she did—then she had an excuse to stay with Harri a little longer. So really, Jack had done something for her, huh?

#tru calling #jacktru #trujack #jack tru #tru jack #jack and tru #tru and jack #jack/tru #tru/jack #fanfiction #au #oneshot #mine #my work #Shanna writes #Shanna's various forms of art #tru davies #jack harper

[okimargarvez]

I HAVE TO GO

Original title: Ora devo andare.

Prompt: go away.

Warning: sequel of Imperfect .

Genre: romantic, drama, angst, friendship.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, JJ, Emily, BAU team.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 26 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 🔦.

Song mentioned: Per un po’ sparirò, Tiziano Ferro.

MY OTHER GARVEZ STORIES

This story is dedicated to my Peruvian friend and fellow in night chatter @thinitta

I HAVE TO GO

For those who believed that love was take and run away, for those who will still believe in it from now on...

Obviously is raining. And she can't say that this displeased to her, the time is perfectly matched with her internal mood. She could even almost manage to convince herself that she was the actress of some film noir.

Penelope hugs her suitcase, sheltered under a colorful umbrella. Or in Singing in the rain. She begins to hum the melody in a low voice. Headlights illuminate the street strangely little traffic. She looks her reflected in a puddle. She sighs and moves forward, without looking over her shoulder, towards her apartment.

The taxi stops in front of her gate. A 60 ages old man comes down and, after kindly greeting her, loads the only baggage behind it, then opens the door for her. She closes the umbrella and shakes off a few drops of rain. Inside there is a nice warmth, but it’s not powerful enough. It can’t contrast with the frost that pervades her.

The driver was tired to hear the complaints of people on who knows what various topics (Reid had mentioned a study about it, which showed that people open up mostly with hairdressers, taxi drivers and some other category that he couldn’t remember) he became a bit of a psychologist: he realized that the blonde woman didn’t want to talk and left her lost in her own thoughts. Probably he also notices that in the middle she begins a silent cry, but something in her bearing, in her look, in her eyes, suggests him that it’s a serious matter, yes, there is something extremely proud in her tears.

I don’t have to think about it, but now what is the use of censoring me, forcing me not to do it? He'll never know it. So, I ask myself: what is Luke doing right now? He will be with her, probably. They'll be... She bites her lips, closes her eyes and forces herself to say it. They'll making love, surely. After spending a quiet evening watching some stupid TV program. His arm around Lisa's shoulders, she with her head resting on his chest, every now and then she’ll have raised her chin to look for his lips ... and then they will have laughed, he’ll have bent his mouth in that strange way, so sexy and mischievous and he’ll have proposed turning off the TV to move on to something more interesting. And then they may fall asleep together, legs intertwined, his arm on her stomach and this morning he’ll bring her the breakfast to bed and...

She believed she was strong, that she would be able to pretend that everything was going well, that nothing had changed. This was until Lisa had appeared from O'Keef, shattering the barrier between work and private life. She couldn’t hide what she felt, could no longer joke with herself and settle for that little, now that Luke had a girlfriend, especially if she was there, present.

And realizing how much their behavior together was natural, this had finally killed her. It wasn’t the adventure of a night, or a "phase". Surely Luke would have married Lisa, just as Derek had ended up doing the same with Savannah. It wasn’t about seeing the overlaps where there weren't: they were both female doctors, beautiful women and good people.

May you be happy, Luke. I wish you only this.

But she wouldn’t stay there to see it.

 For those who believed that giving oneself means being strong, I say no, nothing at all ...

He awakens hearing a sound that he is get attached now, but when he opens his eyes to read the content of the message, he is surprised to see who the sender is. It's Prentiss, a new case has arrived. He rubs his eyes and yawns. Needless to lie to himself, he is sad that it’s not Garcia, it was usually she to throw him out of bed with that sentence, combined with a joke every time different. In fact, Lisa had never appreciated this either (that another woman snatched him from her arms), but before tonight (last night, now) he hadn’t noticed.

He dresses without turning on the light, he doesn’t need it, because enough of it enters from the window. It is six o'clock in the morning. He can’t wait to get there, to see her. Of course, he can‘t speak already now, because they have to concentrate on the case, but later, in short, when this case too will be archived, perhaps...

Roxy barks, distracting him from his ruminations. -I'm sorry, girl, no walk today.- he gives her a caress. -Jenny will arrive soon.- without Lisa’ stuff his house doesn’t seem so different. He can’t help but imagine unicorns, octopus-shaped cups, strange-colored curtains. If there was Penelope in her place, yes, he would feel the difference.

He shakes his head and climbs into the van.

Because those who flee will not be a real winner at all, only those who don’t hide will win...

Finally, he sees the outline of the very high building, he parks and rushes to the elevator. In that narrow space he fries with anxiety. He just needs to see her, just a second... the doors open, and he go down. He heads to his desk. -Hey, good morning!- he is excited, anyone could understand it. He greets Spencer and Matt, who reciprocate him. He notices that Rossi is talking on the balcony with Emily. He turns to JJ, who is intent on working on some documents, very focused. -Hey!- he says, but the blonde doesn’t seem to have heard him, because she doesn’t answer anything. But she seems to notice that he is staring at her, because she slams the papers on her desk and sighs, as if she were trying to control her anger. Maybe she fights with Will? He sees no other solution to her behavior. -JJ?- he asks, uncertain. She turns to him and glares at him, one of those looks that are very close to those that usually gave him Penelope. Luke stands up in front of the woman. -Hey, are you okay?- JJ also stands up, pushing the chair badly, but instead of answering, she heads towards the round table room. -What's wrong with her?- he asks the other two men. Simmons shrugs, dr. Reid seems to know more, but also, it's not willing to telling him anything. After not even a second the chief appears on the balcony. -Guys…- 

Camouflaging your love can only hurt you, so it should never be done...

As soon as he comes in, Luke notices that someone is missing. There is an empty chair and the remote-control rests abandoned on the table. However, he doesn’t have time to ask for anything (because in the euphoric state he is in, he probably would have been able to do it), since a man who he has never seen, makes his entrance.

-Good morning, sorry for the delay.- and the man grabs that remote control. Luke must refrain from taking it before him, as if he wanted to protect an object he deems worthy only of the undisputed goddess of the BAU, one of the many nicknames he had discovered had been created by Morgan specifically for her.

He immediately starts talking about the case, but Luke can’t concentrate. He stares at him as if he were a usurper. He has gray hair, wears a pair of glasses with banal frames and has a voice that he finds annoying immediately. And he is clearly an IT. Kevin Lynch, is written on the name tag hangs on a shirt in bad taste.

Who is this man and where is Penelope?

Luke doesn’t participate in the debate, he doesn’t give any contribution. He wakes up only when Emily utters the mantra. -Wheels up in 20.- then he watches JJ approach the man and whisper quietly. She definitely knows him, and Prentiss too, it's obvious from their attitude. Then the blonde goes out and her place is taken by the last woman left in the room.

-I'm Dr. Tara Lewis, nice to meet you.- Lynch smiles, but this doesn’t make him more nice. Matt also shows up and so he realizes that he is forced to do the same, or he’ll seem to have something against this stranger. And even if it's really like that, it's not good for others to know it. Not immediately, at least.

-Luke Alvez.- no kind formula, it would feel hypocritical. The IT has a firmer hold than he would have imagined. In hearing his name seems to light up.

-Alvez, of course! Plum juice told me about you. Don’t worry, I’ll not call you newbie.- he doesn’t know which of the thousand things implied by this sentence should upset him more. Plum juice . It is clearly a nickname related to Garcia and is almost as odious as Derek Morgan's baby girl. Plum j... Penelope, in short, told Lynch about him. And finally... this guy thinks he can make fun of him. No one else in the world can call him that way, except JJ, every now and then...

JJ. He has to talk to her, she surely know something more about him.

-Okay... now, I’m sorry, the jet is about to leave and I wouldn’t want to stay here...- he takes leave with one of the worst excuses that have ever occurred to him. He basically runs to get on board as soon as possible. Just outside he almost crashes against JJ. -Hey, I was looking for you...- but the blonde doesn’t seem to have changed mood.

-Alvez, be more careful. Try to focus on the case, rather than on your girlfriend.- a cold, pungent tone that makes feel Penelope absence even more. JJ had never called him by surname, they were good friends, they often went out in pairs during the missions. -What do you want?- she stands in front of him with folded arms.

- I... nothing, do you know where Garcia is? Is she fine?- Finally, he is forced to ask directly what he really wants to know. The woman bursts into a sour laugh. But she decides to be generous and gives him at least one of the answers.

-She had to leave for personal reasons.- totally aseptic. -Why are you interested in knowing, Alvez?- she approaches him, this time smiling smugly. -Then? Did someone cut your tongue?- Luke shakes his head and almost manages to move her, but then she remembers that at that moment her best friend is about to take a plane and fly away, far away, all alone and the fault is of this wretch she has before her.

He sighs, closes his eyes and when he opens them he stares at her with such intensity that he upsets her. -Because I love her, JJ.- she sees a few tears in the corners of his eyes and realizes it must be something serious.

-Well, you don't show it very well.- she moves away a little. -Anyway, she told me to tell you to look in the first drawer of your desk. And move, Luke, the jet doesn’t wait for anyone.- some shade of sweetness more than the last time. The man opens it without knowing what to expect, but definitely not that.

A black and white puppet in the shape of a cat. And there's a note underneath, he recognizing the convoluted computer technician’ writing, in green. I'm sorry.

 What is fashionable, now, I don’t know, until yesterday the instinct was followed... what will remain of us, now I don’t know, I only know that for you, I will not be the same more...

Penelope opens the umbrella and pulls the suitcase up to the airport entrance. It is still raining. She can’t help wondering what is happening in Quantico in the meantime. Has a case arrived? How's Kevin doing? But she must not reflect on these things, otherwise it will change her mind.

She walks through the crowd, trying to go unnoticed. Her heels are not so tall, nor the colorful dress like so many others she had wear previously. But the suitcase is bright pink and the raincoat far too dated. In no way she couldn’t be noticed. Too bad the right person hadn't notice her, not in the way she wanted, at least.

Of course, she made him laugh with her jokes and keeping him at a distance, but... nothing more.

She lines up behind a couple of elderly gentlemen. She observes the way in which both try not to weigh on each other, but at the same time they manage to support each other. The man gives a caress to his wife, who snorts, complaining that her legs hurt. Penelope sighs, takes another step and before she realizes it, she is a few steps from the ticket office. She turns to look back, almost hoping to see Luke appear, running towards her, begging her not to leave him.

Obviously, there is nobody.

-Miss, how can I help you? -

 Maybe yes, maybe not, very careful and distracted, you've ever wondered, why it happens that... getting hurt is easier than giving a kiss, for what reason I don’t know, and I... for a while I'll disappear... for a while I'll disappear...

The screen turns on and a man with glasses begins to speak, drawing up a list of the last places visited by the victim. But Luke can’t concentrate. For a moment he had hoped to see her, inside that little box, be able to hear her voice as she said it was all a joke, that she hadn’t left. He had deluded himself so much, how could he?

-Rossi, you and Reid will go to the coroner. Tara, JJ, you talk to Felicia Miller's parents. Simmons, Alvez, you with me from the Wikins.- not even the voice of Emily seems to be able to bring him back to reality. -Luke, are you there?- the man nods. He must strive to be professional, can’t allow other girls to be murdered just because he is stupidly in love and can’t manage his feelings. As soon this case will be solved, the sooner he’ll be able to think about his business. Penelope could never love such a selfish person. He must become the man she deserves to have close.

 The previous evening

For those who had fun in a group and shouted at me “you disgusted me” and now I think, that they no longer laughs... for those who believe to be strong because they can hurt, I say no, nothing at all...

-Penelope, are you absolutely sure that this is what you want? That there is no other solution?- she sees that her best friend is trying hard not to cry and not showing weakness, to not force her to stay if it’s not what she really wants.

-Yes, JJ. I'm sure. I'm sorry, I'd like to be strong enough, be able to pretend it's nothing, but I can’t do it, I'm sorry, really. I know it's selfish, leaving you this way, abandoning you with all the cases... but I've talked to Kevin, he is willing to take care of some cases and if...- JJ interrupts her.

-Don't say that, even in fun! You are the least selfish person in the world! It's just... I'll miss you.- now the eyes of both are limpid. -But we'll do it, you don’t have to worry, just think about recover. Ok?- Penelope doesn’t even try to show herself stronger than she is. She pulls her in a hug.

-I’ll miss you too, my friend. And the others too, to die for, you know. But I need some time to reflect, to understand how to overcome this situation... and I can’t do it here, seeing him every day. I can’t treat him like before, every time I see him I feel like crying and when he smiles I just think it's another, the one that makes him feel so good and... and I should be happy for him, but I can’t. I can’t, JJ, that's not me. I've even been able to forgive Battle and mourn Baylor's death, why it's so hard to accept that...- she swallows but forces herself to say that name. -...that Luke is busy with another woman?- she is crying openly, now, without breaking away from the other blonde.

-At seven o'clock.- Penelope wipes her face with a tissue. -Now it's better if... if I go home, I still have things to do... could you... could you put this in Luke's drawer?- JJ looks at the intrigued puppet. -It's... an antistress kitten that he gave me... after the case in Vermont, that of the boy who was also killing while he was sleepwalker... I know it's a stupid and theatrical thing, but...- the other blonde makes a sign that she understood.

-Ok I will. But you call me when you land, it doesn’t matter what time it is. Okay?- Penelope sighs.

-All right. Bye, JJ. Take care of yourself and... of Will, the guys...- it sounds awfully like a goodbye.

 For those who continue to hurt themselves, not loving enough, like you, but perhaps also like me... I look into the eyes of my worst enemy and I don’t let guide from my grudge...

They are walking along the road facing the house of the last victim. Luke seems to have returned to himself and his insights turned out to be correct: Patricia Wilkins had a lover, like the first murdered girl. This doesn’t mean, however, that he has stopped thinking of Penelope, at all. Only she has become a fairly small dot that steadily occupies a corner of his brain, instead of shining in the center and dazzling it.

There is an awkward silence. He decides that to ask a few questions will not be so terrible. He glances at Matt and then at his boss. -Prentiss?- the woman turns immediately to him. Of course, she spoke to JJ, both before and after this case arrived, both later, when they were about to land. But unlike the blonde she wasn’t surprised, the first time Luke introduced himself to O'Keef with another woman. That Lisa didn’t even look bad, her only real flaw was... not being Garcia. Not realizing that Alvez's heart (and mind) were already busy, but... at least someone else had to be notice of it during that evening. Penelope couldn’t take her eyes away from the couple and finally ran into the bathroom, to re-emerge only half an hour later and... without makeup. Definitely shocking.

The whole universe had realized that IT had a serious crush on the Newbie and that the latter was even worse... except those directly involved, of course. Yet, she couldn’t see only in negative the fact that Luke was going out with another. What really mattered here was that he had started going out again, that he was ready to get back on the market... to hang out with someone. Of course he couldn’t go directly to the subject of his desires, the "true goal", as they would say if it were an unsub, but he had to look around, start with something simpler, less intense and busy... and Emily had even hoped that this could help Garcia herself to unblock herself, to understand the depth of her feelings and take a minimum step, because she could also lose him...

This was until her doorbell rang at eleven o'clock in the evening and a Penelope with the smudged makeup had not put a ball of black fur in her arms. Only asking her excuse and giving her shortly after a letter, on rosy paper, but no less official.

A temporary leave? Yet, there was just written like that.

-Why you're interested, Luke?– she chooses to prolong the agony a little bit. She also wants to see how far he is willing to push himself for know. How far he is willing to expose himself, to make others understand what he feels, to feed his jealousy. He looks her in the eye and doesn’t look away. A lot, I'd say.

-Well, he called her...- she sees the man's Adam's apple going up and down as he strives to pronounce that nickname. -... plum juice and he told me that Garcia spoke to him about me. I just assumed that.- she can’t be so bad, he deserves to know the truth.

-Yes, Kevin and Garcia have been together almost for four years.- the eyes of the Latin agent are wide open beyond measure, eyebrows raised in the most sincere and surprise expression she has ever seen. A little like when he found out that a wretch had shot her, after a date. -They've been on-again, off-again for the past few years. And the last time... it happened because she didn’t agree to marry him.- well, this she shouldn’t have said it, but how could she resist to not have the satisfaction? Alvez must have known that there was a man out there who wished to make their computer' technician as his wife, who had loved her so much. Because yes, it's clear that Luke also loves Penelope, but... but he must never forget the luck he would get if she allowed him to love her. She is one of her best friends, a person too important, strong, but also terribly fragile and it’s her duty to protect her. Also, she is co-mom of her cat.

The man's legs refuse to move when he hears that word. Marry. The image of Penelope in a white dress flashes him. Her smooth, blond hair around her face, making her look even more like an angel. The frame of the clear, almost transparent glasses and the light makeup, because she doesn’t need it, to be beautiful. And shoes, shoes high, but not in an exaggerated way, on the other hand exalting terribly the neck of her foot. Nothing else, no other frills. The only accessory she would wear is her smile.

-Hey, Alvez, are you there, are you okay?- maybe she has a little exaggerated.

 One, I always look forward and I don’t give up; two, if I tell you you're the top, I'm lying...

She sits down at the spot marked on her note, next to a decidedly handsome man, with dark hair, slightly curls. If it were not for a pair of blue glasses, he could almost be mistaken for Luke. Damn it, why she can’t stop thinking about him? What's the point to fly miles away from him, if her heart has remained in Quantico?

He had find it, the kitten? If she closes her eyes, she can vividly relive the moment when he gave it to her... the way he had smiled at her, the nuances of his voice... what he had told her. Everything had led her to believe that... he was not just a slightly too careful colleague. And how had she reciprocated him? Reminding him that she wouldn’t stop tormenting him, even if he had shown careful about her, taking care of Reid.

How stupid!

-Attention, we are about to start the take-off phase. Please turn off your electronic devices and fasten your seat belts until the plane will reached a steady position.- Penelope hurries to execute and while she sends her cell phone to sleep, she is disappointed to see that there aren't messages from him. But why does she still hope to receive a signal?

-First time you flies?- she jumps, hearing her neighbor's voice. He is smiling at her and seems very kind.

-No, but I can’t get used to it.- she replies, trying to force the heart to regain a regular heartbeat. The stranger's eyes are brown, but slightly clearer than Luke's. Luke. All roads lead to him.

 Maybe yes, maybe not, very careful and distracted, you've ever wondered, why it happens that... getting hurt is easier than giving a kiss, for what reason I don’t know, and I... for a while I'll disappear... for a while I'll disappear...

Luke can’t conceive how much he misses her. It’s not just the need to hear some joke, stupid or joyful, but always apt, or about jealousy, challenge, sense of revenge. No, it’s only about love, the word that have always scared him. He had always tried to avoid it, but he wasn't able to stop himself from falling in love with her. She managed to penetrate his skin, to change everything, every attitude, every thought. If he hadn’t met her in that elevator, cold and willing to convince him of the talents of her Canadian boyfriend, would he accept Hotch's proposal to join the BAU? He doubts it, and so much. Surely when he met her he was already doing a little thought about it, even if to Rossi he had said the opposite. But she, Penelope, had been decisive.

They all get on the jet. They go back home. But it's not home, if she's not there to wait for them, with some drink or big proclamations, and O'Keef without her laughter... it's just another place to feel alone. That's why he makes the decision to talk to JJ and understand why she has problem with him. It’s certain that it concerns Garcia, so he has twice reasons for doing so.

-Hey, JJ, can we talk for a moment?- the blonde looks up at him and then moves to Prentiss. She nods and follows him in the drinks area. She puts her arms folded and stares at him, waiting. -Would you tell me what I did to you? You've been strange since before we left, and I have a theory. Do you want to hear it?- she doesn’t answer. -I think it's about Garcia and, also the reason she left the team overnight. And I think that Emily also knows it, but she has an opinion different from yours, because she didn’t treat me like you...- the blonde explodes.

-Ok, what the hell! You're right, it's Garcia!- she pushes him away. -It's your fault, Alvez and I'm not like her, I'm not understanding and sweet like Penelope, so I'll never stop hating you for having hurt her.- her eyes are bright, but out of anger, not for the pain.

-I... I would never have…- she doesn’t let him finish talking, of course. Their screams are heard in the armchairs, but Emily signals the others to take no notice.

-Maybe not consciously, but you did it anyway, the result doesn’t change.- he realizes that she is trying to calm down. -With all those looks, those smiles, those attentions that you have dedicated her... do you think I’m an idiot, Luke? Do you really think I didn’t notice anything? Why grab her remote-control and play with it before leaving it to her, why smiling sly when she called you newbie, why help her get off the sidewalk, console her for Reid, give her that damn kitten... take her to your friend with that pet...- while she talks, he blushes. But JJ doesn’t seem to be left in the slightest move. -I wonder, in fact, I ask you... why do all these things and then go out with another woman? Engage with another but don’t stop flirting with Garcia? And then, the worst crime: bringing her to O'Keef. Will never comes with us. That's our space, Luke, ours, only BAU, do you understand?- she runs a hand across her face.-Yes, I understand...- but the blonde shakes her head.

-No, you didn’t, otherwise you wouldn’t have brought Lisa. What did you think, Alvez, when you were with her? Why make fun of two women? I know you now, and you're not like that, you're not that kind of man... So? Why tease Garcia, deceive her that way and then find another one? Answer me, for the love of heaven!- Luke tries to stem her outburst by taking her by the shoulders.

-I don’t know, JJ, I swear. I didn’t even want to go out with Lisa, it was Phil who has organized everything and forced me. I... I didn’t do it on purpose, nothing. Until... until Lisa told me that Garcia had staring at me all the time and that it was perfectly clear that she was in love with me... I swear, I didn’t realize it, neither about what I felt, nor about that what she felt. I'm... I was so blind and stupid, but I never wanted to hurt her, never, never. She is a miracle on earth and I would be ecstatic if only I could hear her voice one more time, even if she told me I'm an asshole.- JJ yields and hugs him, but also gives him some pat on the back.

-I don’t know if I can forgive you anyway, for making her feel bad, whether you were conscious of it or not. You said it, she's a miracle and deserves someone who is aware of it and that treat her like a queen.- they break away and Luke looks down, obviously not feeling up to that task. -And you're, for the hell, that person. So, find her, please, and bring her back to us. It's an order.-

 And if the pain prevails, it will make more sense... this will disappear, it’s what I think, what it means, what it means, that I have suffocated... only the need of who, has not forgotten you, and I... for a while, I will disappear...

The heart is about to come out of her chest. She doesn’t care that others understand. She shows too much apprehension to be just a colleague, who for the most part has never given a single sign of having accepted him in the team. Nothing counts, at this moment, except know, checking with her own eyes that he is fine. She doesn’t greet them almost and rushes to the room where they told her she will find him. She opens the door with a click, because otherwise she would remain on the threshold indefinitely, without finding the courage to take that step.

He is covered up to his armpits by a white sheet and looks terribly thin, small and fragile, as she had ever seen him. And his skin is so strange. The arms abandoned along the body, motionless. And closed eyelids.

-Luke.- she moans, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers. It's cold, of course. The memory of that nickname snatches a smile from her. -I can’t leave you alone one day, see what you do without me.- with the other, she touches his hair. So many time she wanted to sink her fingers and now she can do it... -Please, Luke, lift those eyelids and show me your beautiful dark eyes...- no change. If there wasn’t that machine that continues to beep, she would doubt that she is still alive. The chest lifts so slowly... -It was my fault, I know, I should not have left, but I needed it, I don’t know if you'll be able ever to understand or forgive me, but I couldn’t stay and see you... happy with another woman. I love you too much, yes, exactly, too much. Not like I love others, not even Derek. I'm... I'm jealous of you, although... even if the most important thing is that you feel good, because you deserve it, you are such a good boy and I... I tried to deny it with all of myself, and it has nothing to do with the fact that you have taken the Morgan's place. It has to do with that I can’t afford to be in love with you, and I was right... you found a wonderful person, both outside and inside and...- now she is openly crying, tears running down, crossing her cheeks and a go directly on the inert hand of man. But without making any sound, only from time to time she is forced to stop because the lump in her throat becomes too tight. -But now if you open your eyes and... you insult me or give any sign of life, I promise I’ll return to work for the BAU and I’ll stay close to you, for what I can, even if I have to see you marry Lisa...- she lets go his hand and bends over to place a kiss on his forehead. Another tear falls from the female face on the male one and ends on his lips. She doesn’t even try to capture it, if anything like this would happens... she doesn’t want their first kiss will be like that.

Then she hears like a whisper. She notices that it comes from Luke. Both the lips and the eyelids are pulsing, then the eyes open wide, but he doesn’t seem to be able to focus on her. He coughes a little.

-Luke! You woke up, I knew you would not have left us.- she jumps and screams. She would like to throw her arms around his neck, but in his condition, she understands that this is not the case. She is forced to stop because he keeps trying to say something. She places her ear close to his mouth to hear better.

-Pe... Pen... Penelope...- she warns other tears ready to be poured. He is saying her name! She moves away and smiles at him. Even the man's lips bend in a slight smile.

-Yes, it's me, I'm here, everything's ok! Now I'm going to call a nurse, somebody, so everything will be all right, okay?- she turns and starts to move away, but a slight squeeze on her wrist forces her to turn back.

-No... please... don’t... go...- she turns to him and nods. She doesn’t have time to do anything else, because the door opens, and a brunette woman enters, who rushes towards Luke, almost crashing Penelope. Lisa.

-Oh, love, you woke up, I was so worried!- she throws herself on him and starts kissing him, but the man doesn’t seem particularly happy. He doesn’t close his eyes, on the contrary, he continues to look at his colleague. He almost seems to ask for help. Then, finally she separates and seems to realize that they aren’t alone. -Hey, Penelope, why don’t you go call someone? I stay with my boyfriend.- there is something bad, however, in the tone of the brunette. And as she continues to stare at her, her face is deformed, her mouth widening like that of Pennywise in IT. Sharp teeth and long fingernails like claws.

Penelope remains paralyzed and can’t even scream.

 But in the real world it succeeds. And so, doing wake up her travel companion and not just him. It takes some time to reassure everyone. She looks out the window, they are so high up that the cities below them look like a myriad of glowing dots. A perverse thought comes to her mind. Luke would never come back for me, to save me, he would never do miles and miles just to see me and make sure I'm fine. But she would do it. Love, sometimes, is just disgusting.

The anxiety is such that as soon as she lands she does exactly what JJ had asked her, calls her, to make sure everything is going well and that the dream was only that: a fantasy elaborated by her mind. After breathing a sigh of relief, she walks along the streets of the city where she grew up, before her parents died, that she was adopted. San Francisco.

Every street, every signboard brings back memories, even if many things have changed, so many shops have closed, and new ones have appeared. She doesn’t even know why she chose this place. There's nothing left and no one for her here.

She looks at the sign with a cross on it and sighs.

She comes in, her feet direct her to the right place, even though there has been so few times. Too few. She kneels, leaving herself almost to fall on the ground and caresses the headstone, the gold writing and the photographs. -Mom, dad, I'm home.-

 Maybe yes, maybe not, very careful and distracted, you've ever wondered, why it happens that... getting hurt is easier than giving a kiss, for what reason I don’t know, and I... for a while I'll disappear... for a while I'll disappear...

A race against time. His life after they land at Quantico becomes exactly this. Rushing at the airport, boarding the plane and counting the minutes that are missing at the landing. But San Francisco isn’t around the corner and therefore he is forced to yield. Falls asleep. And he has a strange dream, where he is in a coma-like state, even though he has never experienced such a sensation. He senses everything around him, he even sees it, but his eyes are tight. He notices when Penelope enters his room, when she takes his hand and starts to explain to him that he must wake up, because she loves him even if he is with Lisa, even if she is not the one he wants close to him. He tries with all his strength to open his eyes, but he can’t, some strange force prevents him. And then she starts crying and to be not able to console her is too much. A tear ends up on his eyelids and as if by magic he finally manages to raise them. And she smiles at him, she's so beautiful... he would like to tell her, along with many other things, but then enters Lisa, even if she looks more like a witch and she hugs him, hurting him and then kisses him and sends Penelope away and he doesn’t want to but can’t stop her and then...

Black. Someone shaking his shoulder. A hostess. They have landed. He has arrived.

And then the race begins again. Where will she be? The irony of the situation is that the data that are in his possession there were come out right from Kevin. By now the man has resigned himself to have losing Garcia (if he ever really had had her) and it seems that he is about to getting married to a certain Gina. However, this isn’t what interests him. No close relatives of Penelope reside in San Francisco. So, there is only one place where she may have felt the need to go.

He knew it well before he landed. Without knowing a rational reason. Instinct or maybe something else. He walks hurriedly, without running. He makes the sign of the cross, then wanders among the tombs for a while, before finding a custodian. Explain that he is looking for a friend's parents, who should be buried here. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know their real surname, because Kevin couldn’t find this information. Probably Penelope has found a way to censor and block some parts of her personal file. The same succeeds in obtaining the desired result. The caretaker remembers her. She was such a sweet and pretty girl, how could anyone forget her?

His eyes are throbbing, as he turns the corner, ready to face her, even if she’ll decide to insult him, if she’ll tell him it's too late, it's out of time, that she can never forgive him... he's prepared for everything. He is also ready to make the most of the sacrifices: leave the BAU, where he has found a family, his own place, in order to make return her to Quantico. It must not be her, the one who leaves.

He is prepared for everything... but not for the possibility of not finding her. He looks the smiling faces of Penelope's parents. From her mother she took those big eyes, from dad instead her blond hair. His lips fold in a sweet smile. He reads the written sentence under the date of death.

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity. [Edvard Munch]

Definitely Garcia sack flour. Then notice something resting on the marble. A photo. It rained, before he arrived, and also very strong. In fact, it is faded, swollen with water and also quite crumpled. But he recognizes it instantly. It portrays a brown-haired man, a blonde woman and a shepherd dog. He doesn’t look towards the goal but towards her, as if she were a divine apparition. And her eyes are low, on the animal. Nor did she notice it. They aren’t perfectly in the picture because he has never been able to do these things. But he had so insisted that she finally gave in. And after seeing the photo on the computer, she had asked (kindly) to make two copies. One for her. But just because it portrays me and Roxy, don’t get your head up.

The other copy is on his desk. Next to the statuette of a dog and a black and white rubber cat.

He shakes his head and giggles, hearing again that phrase with her tone and even the punch on the arm she had given him. Penelope isn’t here, but she has been there.

Now he has just to find her.

  TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee @itsdawnashlie @talesoffairies @janiedreams88 @kiki-krakatoa @yessenia993 @teyamarra @c00lhandsluke  @gcchic @arses21434 @orangesickle @entireoranges @jarmin @kathy5654 @martinab26 @thisonekid @thenibblets @perfectly-penelope @ambrosiaswhispers @maziikeen92 @lovelukealvez @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @ichooseno  @ megs2219 @rkt3357 @franklintrixie @thinitta @chewwy123 @skisun @maba84 @saisnarry @myhollyhanna23 @thenorthernlytes

#garvez #penelope garcia #luke alvez #luke x penelope #penelope x luke #alvez x garcia #garcia x alvez #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #criminal minds #cm #per un po' sparirò #tiziano ferro

[mirkwoodshewolf]

I know what you’re going through; Bucky x teen reader

This particular oneshot came from an imagine from The Fandom Imagine and I may or may not post it to their tumblr page idk. Warnings are murder, descriptive killings, mentions of abuse and rape, MAJOR ANGST but it’ll end in fluffy feels at the end. The imagine is below, hope you guys enjoy ;) 

"Imagine having terrible nightmares of your past as a brainwashed Hydra assassin and Bucky always being there to help calm you down and hold you when you wake up".

Taglist:

@evyiione

_______________________________________________________

My name is (y/n) (l/n). I know it sounds common but most names do if you think about them long enough, maybe even yours. I once lived as a simple little girl on the farm, feeding the chickens, playing with Mr. Goose, and sitting with the horses from sunrise to sunset, yeah it seemed like a normal life at first but it soon all ended.

When the people in black with the red octopus symbol came to our farm one night during dinner and killed my whole family right in front of my eyes and took me away.

All of this happened when I was only just 5 years old.

From then on I lived a life in a small cell with no windows, cold metal walls, an old worn out mattress on the floor for my bed, and an old toilet. I was then trained to become a master assassin alongside HYDRA'S best asset "The Winter Soldier". I made my first kill on the President's secretary when I was only just 7 years old.

I was tortured, brainwashed whenever I tried to fight back or beg to leave, fed only when I completed a mission successfully, and pushed above and beyond my limit during training.

I was practically the living dead and was known in HYDRA as "THE GHOST GIRL" because of my pale complexion due to malnourishment and the fact that I could disappear on the scene faster than anyone could blink due to my nimble legs and fast reflexes.

When I turned 15, my life began to change.

I was located to Siberia, Russia to help some of the remaining secret HYDRA members build their weapons and train with some of their experiments. As I was in training but getting my butt seriously kicked, the base was under attack by some members of the Avengers. As the HYDRA soldiers and guards were busy trying to defend the base, I thought it would finally be an opportune moment to finally escape from this hell and finally feel the sun on my face and the ground between my toes.

I snuck out of the base and just ran as fast and as far as I could when I suddenly came face to face with a member from the Avengers. Weak and exhausted from running, I just fell to my knees breathing weakly as the Avenger wearing a jetpack of some sort on his back wearing red goggles.  I felt him catch me just before I could fall face flat in the snow and I heard him say.

"Cap, I'm heading back to the Helicarrier, I've got a kid and she looks malnourished beyond normality".

Next thing I knew, I woke up in a comfortable bed with needles up in my arm. I whimpered and tried to hurry and get them out thinking the drugs that were entering my body was more serum to make me stronger but a hand reached out for mine and a voice said.

"No, no, no, no leave it shhh, shhh. It's alright, its fluids and medication to counteract the drugs, it's alright". When I looked up I saw the one and only ex-asset from HYDRA, the Winter Soldier. "What's your name honey?" He asked in a softer voice. I just stared at him breathing heavily through my nose when I answered in a hoarse voice.

"(Y/n)".

"Nice to meet you (y/n)".

"Are you taking me back to HYDRA?" the Winter Soldier looked at me with a look of horror but it quickly turned back to gentle and welcoming.

"No, (y/n). We're heading to an Avengers base to get you some help, don't worry, you're safe now". I couldn't believe what I was hearing. For the first time in 10 years, I was finally free of HYDRA. Tears welled up in my eyes, my body began shaking as I tried to hold my sobs in since in HYDRA crying is seen as weakness, and if even one tear fell from my eyes, I would get beaten for showing weakness.

Sensing my inner turmoil to just let go, the Winter Soldier suddenly held me close to his chest.

"It's okay. I know what you're going through, I was scared too. But I'm going to help you, it's alright. You're free now, you're free". Surprised at the Winter Soldier's actions not even realizing that this was the same asset that HYDRA had used to do their bidding for over 50 years and have been tracking him the last year and a half for, was holding me like this comforting me.

But none the less, I finally let the waterworks out and cried as much as I could and not once did the soldier flinch, fake sympathy, or sarcastic remarks, he just held onto me comfortingly and kept whispering soft things into my ear until I had cried myself to sleep.

2 years later after my rescue from HYDRA, I had been given psychological as well as light physical therapy. I spent the first few months in the medical wing with doctors trying to get my health back up, along with being fed the correct foods and given drugs to counteract the ones HYDRA had given me for years, psychiatrists would come in and we would talk for hours on end about my life and what HYDRA had done to me for the past 10 years.

It was very, very, very hard having to repeat to these doctors over and over and over again every single day I went through with those people, hell some of the days were so bad, I would refuse to speak to anyone for weeks *if you want to know what it was that made me stay silent for so long, I'll only just say I'm not a virgin anymore and just leave it at that*. But the worst thing of all wasn't just talking about my past, the worst was at nights I would wake up screaming from the nightmares I would have of my previous HYDRA missions. Seeing myself getting brainwashed to do their bidding, the looks on my victim's faces and hearing their families screaming as soon as they found the bodies.

But you know what? Something good came out of that. With all the nightmares, the therapy, and the reliving of events, there was one person who was always there for me and never once complained nor did it because it was his job.

It was Bucky *after a while I had found out his real name from his friend Steve and the man who had found me, Sam Wilson aka Falcon*.

As said before, he didn't stay close to me because it was his job, he did it because he's gone through all this before.

He was willing to help me out and make sure nothing bad happened to me here in SHIELD because sometimes some SHIELD agents can get crazy and want to do further investigation on some people's powers, or if the psychiatrists tried to make me talk when I didn't want to because I was paralyzed from seeing all my crimes before my eyes, he would be there to tell them to lay off and end the session right there and take me back to my room and bolt the door shut and just hold me close.

Bucky had become like the big brother I had always wanted and even though he was reputed to not even socialize with anyone as much as the other Avengers, he always took the time to always be there for me, day or night. And it was lucky to because tonight I would need him the most.

It was bedtime and I had fallen asleep after writing a few poems in my journal given to me by Steve and just when I thought I could finally sleep peacefully, I had once again fallen into sleep paralysis of seeing my past catch up with me.

I was hiding inside the hall closet of an executive of SHIELD just waiting for him to come home. As I could hear the door open I was shocked to hear the sounds of two young boys laughing and giggling.

"Okay boys, get on up into your rooms, put your pajamas on, brush your teeth and get into bed!" My target's voice said. I soon heard the sounds of the two boys running across the hall and into their rooms getting ready for bed. I waited in silence as my target came into his boy's room, read them a bedtime story, tucked them in and kissed them goodnight. As the lights went off in their room and soon finally in his, I slowly and silently walked across the hall towards my target's room and readied my gun.

I stood over his bed with the gun pointing directly at his sleeping body when the door suddenly bean to open and without question I fired a shot at the person coming in only to see that it was one of his boys. The boy fell down into a pool of blood waking up the father and when he saw me and his son's dead body, he immediately went to attack me but I nimbly flipped over him, taking out some rope from my hip and landing behind him and wrapped the rope around his neck and tied it once tightening it.

"Where are the SHIELD plans?"

"Murderer!" I tightened the ropes on him and sneered.

"I won't ask again!"

"Go—to—hell!" I then took out my wasp knife and plunged it into my victim without a second thought and as soon as it plunged into his back, his inner organs came spilling out along the floor. I walked over the cold corpses of my two victims and headed towards the son's bedroom to be rid of the other son, no use in leaving witnesses alive, plus spare the kid his future suffering. I gently took one of the spare pillows and covered his face with it slowly smothering him, then when the kid began struggling trying to free himself, I put all my weight in my hands to smother the pillow further into his face until he stopped struggling.

With the family dead at last, I began to search through the father's study until I managed to find the flash drive HYDRA needed and successfully got out of the house and vanished into the night.

I was tossing and turning as I screamed, a voice was calling out to me.

"(Y/n), (y/n) wake up!" I suddenly shot up hyperventilating only to see Bucky sitting on my bed with his arms holding my arms soothingly, "it's okay it's okay! You're okay".

"Bucky?"

"Yes (y/n) it's me. You were having another nightmare weren't you?" I lowered my head sadly.

"It was awful, the worst mission I ever had to do, oh God I—"

"Shhhh, shhh, shhh. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I know I've had my shares of nightmares like that". I looked up at him and said.

"Did they ever involve killing innocent children? Children whose lives have barely begun? Innocent souls who never did a thing wrong and are so naïve to the dangers that truly lurk out in this world?! Bucky I kill two innocent boys around the same age I was when I was taken by HYDRA! I shot one of the boys as he was coming when his father was the real target, and then after the father was dealt with I smothered the other son with his pillow!" I gasped in some air and muttered, "I'm a monster Bucky, anyone who would kill children doesn't even deserve to even walk on this Earth anymore. Why are you still doing this for me? We both know deep down I am beyond fixing, I'm broken and there's nothing that can be done to fix me!" It was then I took out my gun from under my pillow and handed it to Bucky and continued, "Might as well just kill me now while you have the chance soldier, you have your mission, now see it".

I waited for Bucky to fulfill his mission that I had given him, one HYDRA soldier to another and we kill without a second thought, but after a long wait in silence, I didn't hear a gun fire. Instead the gun dropped to the floor and I was pulled into a strong chest.

"Don't you ever. Ever. Speak like that again! Do you understand me!? Don't you ever let me or anyone else hear you speak like that again!" Bucky deeply sighed and continued, "look; I know it's hard adjusting to this. You're scared, tired, paranoid beyond belief that everywhere you look these people still see you as what HYDRA made you into. But there is one thing that both SHIELD and HYDRA can never take away. Your heart. You weren't yourself just like I wasn't mine. HYDRA forced us to become like this for their own gains, me when I fell from the train, and you when you were just a little girl barely 5 years old. We both were weak and powerless to stop them at the time, we've allowed them to control us for far too long; but now. Right here, right now is the time to finally stand up and become the better person. It's true our red legers are dripping, soaked skin deep, but there is a chance to finally try to move on and help other people from becoming what we've become, by ending the bastard HYDRA once and for all". Bucky now held my face in his hands and looked at me with soft but determined eyes. My eyes shut and I began to sob softly, Bucky leaned forward and kissed my forehead gingerly then leaned his forehead against mine.

"Do you—do you promise you'll always be there for me?"

"I promise, I won't ever leave you until you tell me so". He smiled softly. Bucky then held me close to his chest and said, "try to go back to sleep (y/n), I'll make sure the nightmares won't come back".

"Thanks Bucky, I've always wanted a brother like you". I said as I started to close my eyes and fall asleep. Bucky smiled as he stroked through my hair and kissed my temple lovingly and whispered.

"And I've wanted a little sister like you baby doll". Bucky then laid down on my bed and held me in his arms for the rest of the night.

Bucky Barnes and I continued to always support each other trying to heal from our HYDRA persona and not only that I got to have a family again with the Avengers and most importantly with Bucky being the big brother I always wanted.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x teen reader #fluff #angst #bucky barnes imagine #brother feels

[imagine-a-dream]

I wish a very happy (even if a little late) birthday to my dear friend @laurawantstosleep. May the luck be forever on your side and every one of your dreams come true. Here's a little something that I hope will brighten up your day. Love you! ♥

summary: It's your birthday and Otto, being the best boyfriend, prepared a surprise for you.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff

word count: 2246

A/N: sooo much fluff and love ♥

You turned the key and opened the door to your apartment. The moment you stepped into the small space of your corridor, you were welcomed with a thick warmth that made your body shiver from the contrast with the cold winter air outside.

You inhaled deeply to help your body get used to the atmosphere inside, and your nostrils were flooded with the very unique smell of your house. The smell that immediately whispered "home" right into your heart the moment it touched your senses, making it pump a little faster and warming you up from the inside.

You couldn’t help but exhale an exhausted sigh. The weight of the world fell from your shoulders the very instant, and your racing thoughts calmed down for the first time on this long day.

You closed the door behind you and kicked off your boots, changing them into cute, fluffy slippers. Then take off your coat along with other accessories that help your body keep warm in the unwelcomed winter weather. Only after you stepped further into the apartment and tossed your keys and bag onto the nearest stool did you notice strange sounds coming from within.

You paused and listened closely. From the direction of your kitchen, you heard the soft shuffling of clothes, quiet tinkering of something that sounded like metal, along with running water and… music.

You couldn’t make out the words, but the characteristic noizes of the brass instruments and the familiarity of the tune told you that it was probably something of Sinatra or similar. Your lips curled into a small smile.

Otto.

You walked towards the sounds and found him in the kitchen. Your spirit lifted instantly, filling your chest and coloring your cheeks with warmth. You leaned on the doorway, taking in the picture before your eyes.

His back was turned to you, while all of his attention was focused on something before him. From what you could see he was cooking something, humming quietly along to the song. Two of his appendages supported his weight, letting his spine rest, while the other two helped him, giving him different items and ingredients.

You watched in awe how the upper right (Flo, if you remember correctly) cracked an egg, poured it into the bowl, and tossed the shell in the bin with a delicacy you wouldn’t expect from a heavy metallic mechanism. At the same time the upper left limb (Moe) was mixing the contents of the bowl with a whisk at an amazing speed.

The whole picture was so sweet, so domestic. You bit your lip to suppress a grin threatening to break out. God, he was cute.

As regretful as you were to disturb the man, you felt the need to finally announce your presence. And hopefully, get a much needed hug after a long and tiring day.

"My love, what are you doing here?"

The sound of your soft voice made his head snap and his upper arms face you in an instant. Harry and Larry lowered Otto on the floor carefully, and now the whole four of them were chirping happily in greeting.

You breathed out a laugh and lifted your hand to pet each of them, as you usually would, but before you could do anything, a pair of strong and very human arms locked around you, squeezing you into the body of their owner. Your nose bumped into the softness of your lover’s chest, and your body relaxed, melting into him. Your hands wrapped around his torso, holding him even more tightly.

"Hey, darling. You’re early today."

"Yeah, we closed earlier because of the weather."

"Ah, I see."

"Why, you didn’t miss me?"

Even though your words were muffled a little due to your face being pressed against his chest, making it hard to talk, Otto heard you anyway. He pulled off of you, leaving his palms to rest on your shoulders to hold you in place, both with his hands and his almost hurtful look.

"Of course, I missed you, my heart. We missed you terribly. We always do."

The last sentence died somewhere in the crown of your hair as he pulled you back into his embrace again. You closed your eyes, breathing in his scent and enjoying the heat of his body once more.

"I missed you, too."

Four limbs tweeted merrily around you. You stood there silently, holding each other for a few more minutes before you finally had the strength to pull away. As much as you hated to do it, you needed to take a shower and change into something more comfortable than your work uniform. But you missed lunch today and wanted to fill your stomach before that. At least with some snacks.

"I wanted to grab something first. I’m starving, honestly. What are you making here?"

You turned your head to the fridge, but couldn’t even make a move when Otto’s hands grabbed your shoulders again, more firmly this time. Now this was confusing. His face was unreadable when he cleared his throat and asked rather nonchalantly.

"Err… Don’t you want to take a shower first?"

"Well… Yeah, I was thinking about just that, but I wanted to eat first and I need to take my clo…"

Gently, but firmly enough, he guided you in the direction of your bathroom. He didn’t even let you finish your thought, almost pushing you into the room.

"We will bring it to you." And just like that, he walked away.

Well… that was odd, but you were too tired to ask any questions, so you just went to the bathroom. Later, you thought lazily and peeled off your worn out clothes. Thank god it was your day off tomorrow. You didn’t feel like doing laundry today.

Otto, true to his words, brought you a set of underwear, clean pajamas, and a pair of thick wool socks. Before you sank into the bathtub, he gave you a gentle kiss, told you not to hurry, and jogged away.

Okay...

You took your time, listening to your boyfriend (and your body’s needs for the first time in forever). You waited till the water cooled down so much it was barely warm and not comfortable anymore to sit in. You put on a face masque and a lotion, and finish the treatment for a day with a moisturizing cream.

Walking out of the bathroom you headed to your bedroom to find the charge for your phone that was dead for a few hours now. The path to your bedroom lied through the living room where you expected to find your lovely nerd and suggest he join you for dinner. As you always did. Even if he was a little weird today, he was still the love of your life, and thanks to your damn working schedule you haven’t seen much of him lately.

But you always had dinners, and you weren’t going to miss it, even if you were already yawning heavily when you reached the main room. It was nothing fancy, of course, neither you nor Otto could afford something too expensive, but you didn;t mind. Your flat was simply comfortable and just big enough for the two of you (Well, the six of you, including Harry, Larry, Moe and Flo, but they were attached to Otto and when calm, weren’t taking up too much room). You loved it, honestly.

But you never thought of anything as particularly beautiful. You did not pay much mind to the surroundings anyway. Until this very moment.

A soft gasp escaped your suddenly tightened throat when you stepped into the room. The first thing that caught your eyes were a few star-shaped twinkle lights hung up attached to the ceiling. Their yellow leds illuminated the room the same way the stars illuminated the night sky.

The furniture was decorated with origami figures: animals and flowers of all sorts and colors. And stars. So many stars of all shapes… It was truly magical.

And in the middle of all this he stood. The man of your dreams. Your significant other, the love of your life and your very best friend, Otto Octavius. He always had a way to surprise you and leave you starstruck in one way or another, but this… It was something else entirely.

He stood in the middle of the room, clearly waiting for you, with the softest look in his eyes and a gentle smile on his lips. A soft brown colored three-piece tweed suit complimented him nicely, hugging all of his curves in all the right places. White checkered shirt emphasized the image, giving off a bit of professor vibe.

"Thank God you’re alive!"

He chuckled and took a small step towards you, his children chirped and it almost sounded like giggle.

You gulped, unable to speak.

"I told you not to hurry, but I wasn’t expecting you to slow down this much."

You wanted to say something, to look around once more, but once you saw him, your eyes were glued to him.

"Otto…" You managed to choke out. "What is all of this?"

He huffed out a laugh, enjoying your confusion.

"Have you forgotten, my love? It’s your birthday."

You shook your head. "But… It’s only tomorrow."

"Ah, that’s where you’re wrong." He closed the distance between you in one big step and showed you his watch, raising it to your eye level, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze off of his beautiful face.

"It’s six minutes past midnight."

He looked delighted and a little bit smug. Of course, he wanted to tease you even now.

As you were staring into his chocolate gorgeous eyes with an unmistakable glint of mischief that he somehow always managed to keep at all times, you were repeating only three words. Over and over again, they spin in your head like a broken record, taking all of the space in your overwhelmed mind.

I love him.

You didn’t know how you got so lucky to have this man in your life. Every time you asked yourself that, and every time you did not find the answer, but god were you happy to have his love. And he felt exactly the same.

He loved you. He adored you.

That’s why he spent a whole month preparing the perfect celebration. That’s why he dug into the internet and learned how to make origami figures. That’s why he tried and tried and tried again to bake the cake from a family recipe that his mother always made for him. By all means the result was worth any effort. You deserved any effort. You deserved the world, and God he loved you so much.

You managed to take a breath and slowly took his hands into your smaller ones. Your fingertips trembled from all of the emotions you felt at this moment. Your heart was racing inside of your chest, thumping against your ribcage like a captured bird that wanted to break free of a trap that was too small for it. You didn’t want to calm her. You couldn’t even if you tried.

Your eyes stayed locked and you hoped that he knew, that he felt, everything you wanted to say to him. Otto’s lopsided grin melted, the twinkles in his eyes faded slowly and were replaced with something different. Something deeper. It was not the flames of desire that you know so well by now, no. It was calm and sure. Steady and confident. It was the light. The light as bright as the shining of the sun itself. And just as radiant.

But unlike the gas giant, this kind of light didn’t burn. This kind of light warmed you, both your body and soul. This kind of light healed you and helped you grow. This kind of light enlightened your life and your path, allowing you to see and not be blinded.

This was the light of love. And it reflected in your own eyes and heart.

He lifted your hands to his face, stroking them gently with his fingers. So gently, as if you were made of glass and he was afraid to break you, he started to leave delicate, almost feather-like kisses against your knuckles. First on the right hand, then on the left. He kissed every bone, every freckle, every mole and scar, showered the tips of your fingers with quick pecks.

And the last bites of cold wind and sharp snowflakes you might still feel on your skin melted under his touch, along with your heart. His eyes held nothing but adoration and love, and you felt your eyes water.

God, how much you loved him. So much, it almost hurts you. But you knew he would never in a million years let anyone, even himself, bring you any harm. The love you had for him, so strong and intense, so huge it couldn’t contain in your body anymore and now threatened to spill through your eyes as words failed to express it. You loved him.

And he loved you.

He let go of your hands, gently placing them on his belt and cupped your face. He covered your lips with his plumpier ones in a tender kiss and the world stopped. He felt perfect against you, like you were always meant for each other. The kiss lasted a moment, or maybe it was hours. Finally he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

"Happy birthday, my love."

masterlist | request rules

#Otto Octavius #Doc Ock #Doctor Octopus #Otto Octavius x reader #Doc Ock x reader #Doctor Octopus x reader #gender neutral reader #plus size reader #spider man 2 #alfred molina #Otto Octavius oneshot

[imagine-a-dream]

Bruises

Part two of a oneshot 'Don't blame me'. summary: After your last quite steamy meeting with the most wanted villain of the day, Otto Octavius, you reflect on your past encounters. warnings: swearings word count: 4664 AN: kinda wifeless au. Wow this is the biggest work I've ever written. I don't know how did part two that was meant to be another smut became this monstrous thing, but here it is. I like it actually? Hope you'll like it, too. Basicaly one huge flashback/backstory, but there will be a part three with smut and all, I promise.

The first time you met him was about two months ago.

Spider-man suddenly vanished, leaving no trace behind him. And left the city unprotected. The first few days people were still hopeful, waiting for their hero to save them, to help and protect them from all the horrors. But a friendly neighbour was nowhere to be seen for about a week now and all the dirt from the pits of hell started to realise that there was no one to stop them anymore.

Things weren’t perfect before, but without Spider-man, the situation went downhill pretty fast. If you think that criminals and all other kinds of bastards were filling the streets before, you should have seen it now. One could hear cries for help in the middle of the day from all around New York. Felons flooded the streets and were becoming more restless and brutal with each passing day. The police were failing to stop them without help from their local super-hero. But this stupid little insect was nowhere to be seen.

And so, angry at his cowardly ass (and your own stupidity), you took his job. As a not-so-hero (who occasionally worked as a hit woman), it was not your job to protect civilians, but after stumbling on yet another robbery in the middle of the day, you step in, too tired of seeing the worst in people.

And so, this stupid little spark of kindness, that was still left in you, led you to stand in front of the most dangerous criminal of the month, Doctor Otto Octavius. You noticed a strange activity in the nearby steel factory and decided to check on it, only to come face to face with Octopus himself.

You have never met the man before (actually, a few days later, you’ll remember being at his lecture at the Museum of Science that one time in university), but now that you stand in front of him, you just think he’s… fucking huge. And, admittedly, quite handsome.

"Now-now, and who are you, little bird? I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting you yet."

You didn’t miss that weird ‘we’ thingy when he was the only one in the building (you checked, of course), but decided that it was just a slip.

He tilts his head, curious to see a new face… well, more of a new suit. Another foolish self proclaimed ‘hero’ trying to stop him. How ridiculous. His gaze roved over your form, scrutinizing every detail, inspecting your suit and posture, trying to decipher you and find your weaknesses.

It is even fun now that he's gotten a good look at you. You didn’t look like a threat at all. You are shorter than him by two heads, your figure is a bit too wide and plampier for a superhero, hair color unnaturally bright. Mask coveres only the upper half, hiding your eyes and forehead, so he couldn’t see your face very clearly, but in the bright light of morning sun you still looked quite young.

He wondered how old you were. God, this city definitely needs to get its shit together and stop letting the young ones do the jobs of fighting bad guys instead of adults. No matter, if you're a mutant or not. He won’t be fighting a kid, there’s no fun in this.

Despite his first impression, your voice sounds older than he imagined, which took him by surprise. It was steady and calm, even if a bit softer than he could expect in these kinds of circumstances.

"Yeah, we haven’t met before. My name is Dust."

Brave little ant. He muses in his head, and his children laugh with him. They encourage Otto to kill you now that they know that you’re not as young as he was thinking, but he shushes them. There’s always a time for that.

A criminal gives you a mocking bow and his lips quirk into a lazy smirk.

"Lovely name."

You ignore the obvious sarcasm.

"Thanks! I like yours, actually. ‘Dr. Octopus’ sounds pretty cool."

Your friendly comment doesn’t affect the man the way you hoped. Instead, he grimaces at the name. Stupid tabloids.

"It’s not my name. Sorry to cut this meeting short, but I don’t have time for new acquaintances right now, child. Get out of my way before you get hurt."

You’re actually offended by his words. Who the fuck does he think he is to disrespect you like this? You have been told you look younger before, but to think that you’re a kid? Unbelievable! The reason behind your reaction to his words is hidden from your understanding at the moment. But after this meeting, when you reflect on the whole encounter with this strange man in the safety of your apartment, you will recognize this feeling as disappointment.

He notices how your lips form a scowl before you speak and can’t help but chuckle. You’re emotional, it can be useful.

"Excuse me? Dude, I’m not a kid, you’re just too tall. And old. For your information, I have a diploma."

The doubt is evident on his face, and it angers you a little. He won’t look so smug when you beat his ass.

"Oh, do you really?"

"Hey, fuck you!"

The grin disappears from his face after your outburst and is quickly replaced with something different. Something more dangerous, dark.

"Careful, child. I may look like an angel, but I promise you, I’m not one."

The sudden change of tone in his voice sends shivers down your spine. You try to ignore it at the moment.

You pout theatrically. "Aww, and what will you do, grandpa, punish me? Can’t wait to see."

Is he imagining things, or is there really a hint of flirtation in your voice? The youth nowadays… Octavius finds himself torn between running off as he initially planned and leaving you behind, not wasting any more precious time on your little schemes, and the desire to stay and learn more about you. He settles on the first option, but can’t help but indulge in his picking interest and tease you a little.

"Get out of my way, little bird, or I will."

Oh fuck him, indeed. If he wants to play, you will play.

"Oh-ho-ho! Sure you can keep up with me, old man?"

You try your best to sound concerned for the next line. "At your age, you should be more careful about this kind of activity. I don’t think it’s healthy for your bones."

He looks so scandalised by your simple teasing that you almost giggle. In all honesty, he shouldn’t even talk to you, let alone pay any mind to your comments.

It’s silly, and he knows that. He knows, but still finds himself trapped in this conversation. The thought flashes in his mind that this might be loneliness and isolation finding a way out.

She disrespects you, father. She’s not a child, we can kill her for you. We will protect you. No one can talk with you like this.

"Excuse me?" He growls, and two of his claws chirp and stare at you with angry red leds. You all but grin, satisfied.

"Oh, I will show you ‘old man’, birdie."

You barely manage to catch one of his arms that aims at your head all of a sudden, and the fight begins. Oh, this one is fun. You can feel it already.

You see him again after six days.

He’s in the most dangerous area of the city, where criminals of all kinds can buy and sell stuff to each other. He’s having some kind of deal, it seems. Sadly, only fragments of phrases reach your ears, so it’s hard to tell what exactly he’s buying. You hear something about transporting materials for his work and electricity.

You let him run away the last time, but stealing metal from abandoned factory activity doesn’t seem right to you. So you educate yourself by reading more about him since the last time you saw him. The information that you read about him makes you even more intrigued.

Turns out the villain, Doc Ock, was no one else but Otto Octavius, one of the greatest scientists of the century. He could have become the greatest if only his fusion generator had not turned into a complete deathly disaster and destroyed the laboratory and endangered not only the people in it, but the whole New York City as well.

Why would a doctor, a very respectful and smart man of science, become a criminal after one failed experiment? It was beyond your understanding. Norman Osborn has had plenty of them so far. The whole city knew, and no one dared to say anything. On the other hand, Osborn was rich, like disgustingly so, so maybe that was the reason.

You hated to admit it, but you were thinking about Octavius more than you ever had about any of the previous rivals that you fought before. There was something about the way he talked and the way he presented himself that drew your attention. The confidence that radiated off of him; the wild smirk that was promising and warning at the same time; the additional limbs... All of this, and so many more of his individual characteristics, only added logs to the fire of your interest.

You’ve never had a problem with killing the bad guys. That’s why your so-called "colleagues" with powers didn’t want you to join the club of heroes. But this one... You feel he’s different. He’s not doing it for money or glory, and besides the doctors that tried to take his metal arms apart from him, he didn’t kill anyone else. While you can’t even count the bodies anymore.

You sat patiently and watched him curiously from your hidden spot on the fire escape of the nearby building. His arms were hidden beneath his coat. It’s clever, you admit that. It gives him an advantage if the situation requires physical intervention.

He is a clever man. Even if it was obvious to you that he was not the one to get into a physical fight before whatever insanity clouded his bright mind, he still had some moves in him. He was calculating, trying to read the movements of his opponent and predict their next blow. Which would be useful if it weren't for your ability to block the majority of his attacks. Still, he leaves you breathless a couple of times.

Alright, maybe, part of it had nothing to do with his fighting techniques...

When the deal is sealed, you decide to jump down from your hiding place and interfere. You quickly knocked out the dealer and immobilized Octavius with your powers.

"Now-now, look who I got here. The infamous Doctor Octavius in the flesh. "

He growls in response. You notice, with a touch of disappointment, that his eyes are hidden behind the dark sunglasses again. In the middle of the night? Is he this pretentious, or is it the consequences of an explosion?

He tries to escape, writhing in your grip, but his appendages are useless before the invisible force of your powers.

You smirk. "Why such a rush, Doctor? You ran away so fast last time... I was hoping we could have a chat."

Even through the thick darkness of his glasses, you could feel his eyes on you, filled with anger. You wonder what colour they are.

"Free me, birdie, and we can talk. It may be your last chat as well, so choose your words carefully."

Rude. And slightly hot… You take a step back to readjust your hold on the man and think about calling for the police to take him, but your gaze lowers from his face. You can’t help but notice the changes in his clothes. You’re sure that last time he was more… covered. Now his chest is on full display before you, barely hidden by his coats.

Your eyes travel down his torso involuntarily, and you notice a metallic belt wrapping tight around his stomach. The skin above it is red. You frown. God, he must be in pain… Despite the circumstances, you feel a light tug of pity in your chest.

You notice a shift in the air around you. In a moment, it thikens, turns into something more personal than just two superbeings playing their roles as a good hero and a bad criminal.

You look at him again, more attentively this time. Worn out clothes, too big even for his large body. His hair is tousled and greasy. The tired bags under his eyes are so big that even glasses can’t hide them. He doesn't take care of himself, that’s obvious.

Finally, your mind connects all the dots, and you are ashamed that it took you so long.

You don’t see just another murderer or an egocentrical psychopath, living to wreck havoc just for the sake of it. Before you was just a broken man. A victim of his own mind, desperately trying to repeat his failed experiment to clear his name, to redeem the damage he has done, creating even more of it in the process. Despite everything, you feel a little sad for him. His intentions were good, and now it’s all just dust and broken dreams.

You can feel him struggle against your invisible restraints again, using your inactivity to free himself, and it snaps you out of your thoughts.

But it’s useless. Your grip is iron, and Octavius stops all his motions, silently accepting his defeat. It angers him, them, but he has no other choice for now. His helpers are already forming a plan of distraction, whispering in his ear all the possibilities.

You take a step forward, not invading his personal space just yet, but close enough for him to see a glimpse of something on your face. Something so… human.

For a very short moment, his mind is clear of the influence of the broken AI. Otto doesn’t understand what woke him, but he catches onto the ringing silence between the two of you, and you notice his face twisting, like he is in pain.

You watch the changes closely, afraid to miss anything. Your mind forms a theory that you’re not ready to think too deeply about yet.

He silently pleads with you to tighten your grip to finish all of this finally. To free him. His lips parted as if he was about to say something, and you leaned closer, enchanted. But then his mouth shuts again.

His four captur- children don’t approve of these kinds of thoughts and take the wheel back immediately. The fog is back again...

"Staring is rude, for your information."

He repeats your own words, and just like that, the strange atmosphere is gone.

"So, you wanted to have a chat. I’m all ears, darling." He angles his head so that his right ear is in your sight and a grin is spreading on his face once again.

"What? Nothing to say all of a s…"

You interrupted him. "Sorry, Doctor, now is my time to quit this meeting. I’m afraid I have more important villains to catch."

Something feels wrong now. Your playful mood is long gone, an unfamiliar emotion drowns your senses, and you decide to back down. Just this once.

The force does not restrain him anymore, and he feels his body fall to the ground, but before his face meets the cold, greasy asphalt, his metallic helpers dig into the ground and straighten him. He’s shocked and a little angry. What kind of twisted game do you play? He thinks about attacking you, but you don’t make any moves.

Despite your words, you’re still on the spot. Just stand here calmly. Like you’re waiting for something. He doesn’t understand what it is, but knows better than to ask questions. In all honesty, neither do you.

With one last glance at you, he scoops his belongings and runs to his cave. Thousands of questions swirl in his head, and Octavius promises to himself that he will learn more about you. For now, he knows one thing about you for sure. You may be even more crazy than he is.

You live your life as usual for the next few days. You go to work by day and beat the hell out of criminals by night. You catch up with your friends and cook your favorite meals. You spend your weekends watching your favorite shows. You sleep with an open window and forget to check your locks twice before bed. You live your life as usual and don't even realize that you’re being watched.

Hidden from your sight in the darkest of shadows, four red LEDs and a pair of attentive eyes watched your every move.

You thought you were being careful, as always. You change your paths and transport on your way home. You redressed in your casual clothes in the dark alleys away from prying eyes. It had never failed you before in so many years, and maybe you were slacking a bit, starting to relax, too assured of the security of your methods.

But this feeling of being safe was nothing more than an illusion. Like a naive fly that is too carefree and blind to the dangers of the world around you, you haven't noticed that you have been falling into the web of a smart and diligent spider. And when you finally open your eyes, it will be too late.

Your third encounter happened by accident.

You decided to make a stop at a random hole in the wall coffee shop after your day's work. There were only two free hours before your nightly patrol, and a dose of caffeine was very much needed to live through the night.

But before you could turn the handle to open the door, it swung widely, and the very man that had occupied your thoughts for the past few weeks strolled out. He nearly knocked you off your feet, but you grabbed the lapels of his jacket just in time to save your butt from landing on the cold ground. He stopped, surprised at the sudden bump, and lowered his head to get a better look at what was standing in his way.

He inspected you with a hawk-like gaze, and all of a sudden you felt very small. It was the first time you were this close to him. It felt… strange, but not in a bad way.

You look up and catch his eyes, looking straight into yours.

This angle finally lets you see the colour of his eyes clearly, and you lose yourself in the depth of it. It’s brown, and reminds you of whisky. Sharp and cold.

You are so shocked that you don’t even feel his strong arm cupping your elbow and helping you stand properly. Your fingers are still clutching at his coat, and he cocks his eyebrow in question.

You’re paralyzed. He takes in the sight of you. Your eyes widened with shock, and your lips parted, but they didn't say anything. You look tempting. He clears his throat and you blink, like waking up from a dream. You finally let go of him and stepped away.

"Sorry." You mumble, and your pretty face turns into a frown. He bets there are a thousand questions swirling in your head right now, like ‘What is he doing here?’ or ‘Does he recognize me?’ and many others, but he doesn't want to spoil the game. So he kept quiet.

Without sparing another glance in your direction, he’s marching to the nearest dark alley to disappear into the city like nothing happened. With displeasure and a slight surprise, he notes that he already misses the warmth of your body in his arms. But he quickly shakes these thoughts away. This is just business, a plan to get rid of you, nothing else. His children echo in his head with agreement.

You, on the other hand, didn’t even try to get rid of the thoughts of this man. You just couldn’t. Your mind replays the last meeting in your head. The image of him popped up before your eyes over and over again. His eyes pursue your dreams, leaving you breathless. The heat of his fingers on your arm burns your skin, even after days. His smell floods your nostrils every now and then, like your apartment was filled with it.

You were sure you were going crazy. On the other hand, you were just human, and humans tend to feel things even if they do not want to. And who are you to deny those feelings?

And so, you did not. You let your heart flutter at the thought of Otto Octavius. You let your body grow hot at the dream of his hands, his mouth, and other parts of his body. You let your own hands wander and gave you what you wanted from him. It was torture.

This time it’s Reinhold’s Cable Plant in the middle of the day.

It’s your day off, but you’re glad you were monitoring the police band. The police are on their way. But this call is in the queue, and with so many calls, they will be here too late.

The workers ran away when he broke in, so thank God there will be no witnesses. You’re not that popular, but still, your behaviour around this man can hardly be called professional.

So you start with a simple greeting.

"Hello again, handsome. Long time no see."

He turns back to you and gives you a once-over. Or so you think. It's hard to see his eyes behind his glasses (different this time). It was nothing, probably just a glance to calculate you again. But your body felt hot against the leather of your suit nonetheless.

"Oh, so I’m handsome now. What happened to "grandpa"?"

You shrugged nonchalantly.

"You started it first. But I apologize. You proved you still have some fire in you." You almost threw a playful wink his way, but at the last moment, realized that he wouldn’t see it anyway. What a shame.

"Anyway, what’s up with the shirt? Didn’t have the time to ask it last time."

He lowers his gaze as if checking that yes, he doesn’t have a shirt on, but doesn’t say anything about it.

You wonder if he even knows what he's wearing? You smirk anyway. "So it’s a little show for me, then?"

You don’t miss the surprise on his face before one of the tentacles throws you into the wall.

From that day, you started to meet every day. Give him a warm welcome, try to stop him (very lazily, but it’s not like anybody can see you), chat a little, let him go. That was fast becoming the routine for you.

Your fights reminded you of the waltz. Attack, defence, flirt. Attack, defence, flirt some more. One, two, three. One, two, three. Attack, defence, flirt.

Octavius didn't even admit it to himself, but he started to enjoy your company, even if he was denying your influence on him to his children.

He shared with you pieces of information here and there. It was nothing, he tried to convince himself and the four voices in his head. Just something to distract you and coax your secrets.

You asked him about his work first.

He told you that he was trying to build a better future. With a fusion power reactor, he was hoping to create a limitless source of clean energy to help people and the planet. But the experiment was compromised by Spider-man, and if not for this little bastard, everything would have worked just fine.

It was honestly arguable, even with your little knowledge of science and this project in particular. But you knew better than to disagree. Maybe with time, you can convince him to check the formulas again.

He revealed that his metallic arms were controlled by an artificial intelligence, but now that the inhibitor was burned, his children were free and helped Octavius with everything.

The theory that you were making earlier was confirmed. The AI probably controlled Otto sometimes, or at the very least manipulated him.

You joked that you needed some helpers, too.

He almost offered to build you one, but stopped himself. Why the hell would he help the one who tried to stop him…

You learned that he was married some time ago, but it didn’t work out.

He learned that you never had serious relationships before you discovered your powers, and after that, you became some sort of vigilante, and now it was impossible and selfish to bring someone into the line of your work.

He was thinking very highly of poetry (he even quoted some of Byron’s, either to throw you off or to impress you, you didn’t know) and literature.

You thought that science was neat, but were very bad at it. Maybe personal tutoring would help.

He didn’t know if it was a suggestion or just a note.

His childhood was not a happy one, but he loved his mother. His father was an asshole, though, and he’d kill him once more just to see how the light of life faded in his eyes.

You understood him.

He didn’t pry further.

So much for coaxing secrets…

He asked why you decided to "put on this stupid suit and play a superhero".

It was not the easiest subject, but after a small banter about how unfair it would be on your part to not answer his questions when he so kindly provided you with answers to yours, you told him everything.

You were not an idealistic kid that magically discovered powers one day and decided to help the world. It was a gruesome story, full of deaths, pain, and betrayals. But you were glad to share it, even if the audience tried to kill you while listening.

And if his blows started to soften a bit this day, along with the look behind his eyes? None of you mentioned it.

Along with emotional and somewhat deep questions, you sometimes talk straight up shit.

"Alright, but will you tell me why no shirt?"

"I think this color doesn’t suit you very well. Try green or red. Honestly, who’s your stylist? You should fire them."

"Who’s your favorite power ranger? I love Yellow, I think she’s neat. But that is if we’re talking about the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. If we’re talking about Dino Rangers, then the Black one did something to me and my awakening, if you know what I mean. Boy, and don’t get me started about the Megaforce..."

This irritated Octavius, but he couldn’t help but chuckle a couple of times. You were growing on him somehow. Your honesty and kind heart (no matter how much you tried to deny it, he could see it), your silliness, and understanding.

He started to get distracted more often. His mind was not only preoccupied with his work anymore. He could find himself thinking about you more often. How you never seemed afraid of him. You didn't judge or insult him, even when he angrily insulted you after another failed punch. You only laughed and threw a joke, sometimes bad, but funny nonetheless.

You started to flirt with him, or so he thought. No, he was sure of it. How else could he interpret your complements about his features other than as a flirt? You were quite a mouthy little thing. And this attention was very fluttering, even if he tried to ignore it. The more he thought about you, the faster his heart beat.

No, enough of it. Enough of you.

He needed some money to finish it all already, so he would think about how to get it right now and not about some silly girl with this stupid wide infectious smile and ringing laugh.

The spider did not notice how he fell into his own trap.

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