#I hope the tags work! sometimes they just disappear when I save the post

[bg-brainrot]

Unraveling Plan Meet Immeasurable Insecurity (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Rating: Teen

Summary: Tav tries their damnedest to propose, only to be rebuffed by Astarion at every single turn.

Tags: Astarion POV - alternating w/Rogue!Tav, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Marriage Proposal, Mild Hurt/Comfort, insecurities

A/N: based on a request from a kind anon on Tumblr– "Would you ever consider writing a one-shot where Tav tries to propose to Astarion but keeps failing multiple times. But Tav doesn’t give up and raises the stakes higher and higher. Astarion will completely remain oblivious because he still has some self esteem issues (why would anyone want to marry him?) and is really confused why Tav is acting nervous around him."

I ended up taking it in a slightly different direction (based on the man’s self esteem issues as you pointed out, anon). Set an undetermined amount of years post BG3, post saving Karlach from Zariel, post-Lae’zel finishing the githyanki uprising so the gang's all here. I hope the kind anon still enjoys it!

Word count: ~5.6k

Astarion first has an inkling that something is the matter when you sneak away from him.

Odd, he thinks, watching your retreating back. Usually they invite me along for this sort of skulking about.

But he understands, better than most, what a bit of privacy could afford someone who hasn’t had any in so long. So he watches you leave, pretending all the while that he hasn’t noticed a thing. Best not embarrass them, of course.

He brushes off the incident as an anomaly– after all, you continue to be your usual self upon your return. Neither of you speak of your absence, and you seem rather pleased with yourself, so he is pleased for you.

The next time he notices something is off he grows a tad more worried.

This time you don’t disappear, but you do spend a concerning amount of time staring at his hands, expression pensive.

“Darling,” he starts. He quickly tucks his hands under the Elfsong table that you both sit at and leans forward. “What are you doing?”

You blanch at the question– an uncharacteristic reaction to be sure. “Oh,” you sound startled, as if you’ve been caught doing something quite naughty. “Nothing at all. Just wondering if you’d done anything new with your nails? They look… nice.”

It’s a lie, that much is clear to Astarion. But it’s not typical that you lie so poorly. And why should you lie? No matter, you look flustered and gods does he love it when you look flustered– it happens so rarely that he feels the need to truly relish it. “Don’t they?” he asks, flourishing his hands in front of you now. “How did you know? I dipped them in an essence of ooze to thoroughly moisturize them.”

“Really?” Your bewilderment almost brings a laugh out of him.

“Gods no, my dear,” he says, reaching out from under the table and for your hands. “You seem quite out of sorts. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, staunchly avoiding eye contact with him.

Odd, he thinks again. Where is their usual daring now?

He’s forced to dismiss the thought as you flag down a waitress, ordering yourselves another bottle of wine.

Astarion becomes genuinely concerned when you return home late one night.

The two of you have grown comfortable together in your house, just on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate, in a cozy corner of Rivington. The location allows you to continue your work with the guild, gives him plentiful access to any criminals that needed exsanguinating, and your former companions are never far.

It does mean that you will sometimes stay late in the city, working well into the sunlight hours– but you also know to send him a message on the days you stay out late. Otherwise your poor, beautiful vampire will waste away in worry.

“Where in the nine hells are they?” Astarion curses aloud on this particular dawning day. He’d tried sending a message to you, only to receive nothing back. He’d sent another to Shadowheart, again to silence. He considers trying someone less responsible like Karlach, when you finally burst through the front door.

“Oh! Astarion,” you say, surprise plain on your face. As if he wouldn’t be here, in your shared home no less, waiting for your arrival. “What are you still doing up?”

He watches you silently for a moment as you tuck something behind your back, straighten out uncomfortably. Then, with all of the annoyance he can muster, he rolls his eyes at you. “It’s lovely to see you too, my dear. It’s not as if I was worrying my gorgeous head off at the thought of you dead in some rank Baldurian gutter.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, shuffling around the room in a rather suspicious manner. “I lost track of time. I figured you would go to bed without me.”

Astarion can’t remember the last time he went to bed without at least knowing where you were. Even if he could, he suspects he really would rather not. “Darling, you know I need my warm-blooded lover by my side to enter my reverie. Besides, what could have possibly taken you so long?”

You hesitate, and something tugs at Astarion’s insides. He feels a sudden sense of fear, a dread that he may regret asking you this question. 

What if you’re upset at him, and this was your way to maintain space? What if you’ve finally, rationally taken a look at your situation and determined that no, you’d really rather not love a monster like himself? Or worse, what if you’d found someone else, someone who could bask in the daylight alongside you? Gods, the idea sends his undead heart plummeting.

Just as you’re about to open your mouth to answer, he rescinds his question, “Nevermind. I don’t want to know. I merely wanted to make sure you were alive. You’re looking as sprightly as ever, so I shall head to bed.”

He doesn’t wait for your response, heading to bed in a dramatic swirl and even more sensational thoughts. 

He’s right, he knows it to his core. You’ve found someone else, someone who can give you the life he never could. More than anything he wishes he had the courage to confront you, especially as all of your odd behavior clicks into place.

They snuck off to find a lover.

They were staring at my hands in the hopes that they were someone else’s.

They stayed out late to relish in another’s company.

They’re aloof because they’re leaving me and it’s all a matter of time.

It’s as plain as day. How could he have been so very, very blind?

__

You had concocted a nice, simple plan.

It involved a ring, a smattering of your closest friends, and a particularly prickly vampire. Ideally, the plan ended with the vampire agreeing to marry you.

Gods. The idea thrills you as much as it scares you: you are actually going to propose to Astarion.

After years together, you and Astarion are practically already married. This is merely a formality in your mind. But of course, for a man like Astarion, it's a formality that means only the utmost effort must be put in.

But, as it always goes in your life, your nice, simple fell apart.

The problem you're finding is that, after weeks of preparation and secretive planning, the man is being oddly distant. Distant and dismissive. It's almost as if he knows something is afoot, and he's utterly determined to make sure it doesn't happen.

Five times now he has thwarted your attempts at a proposal.

"Astarion," you had started the first time. "Would you like to take a walk in the park with me tonight?”

The look he’d given you was equal parts wary and panicked. So much so that you thought maybe you’d misspoken. But his response was measured enough. “No, thank you, darling. I’m afraid I’m quite spent today.” He gave you a yawn to illustrate his point, and you dropped the subject for the night.

You had had to send a message to Shadowheart to call off the trail of poisonous flowers that your friends were laying out for your stroll.

The next time, you had tried being a bit more casual in your attempt.

“Would you enjoy a day at the spa, Astarion?”

Again, he gave you a look that confused you. Frightened face, hackles raised– his only response was, “Why, darling, do I look that ghastly to you?”

“You know that’s not what I–”

“No matter,” he’d waved you off. “I am afraid I’m busy today.”

You’d sent a message to Karlach, telling her that the reservation of Baldur’s Gate’s spa was no longer needed.

The third time, you’d called in some more magical help.

“Astarion, what do you say to a moonlit picnic atop the roof of the Elfsong? We haven’t had one in a while.”

Appalled– utterly and truly aghast is the only way to describe the face he’d made. The words that followed didn't make you feel better either. “And why would we do that again after such a long while?”

Your stomach had roiled, worry settling in at his tone. “I thought it would be a chance to reminisce together.” Your tone stayed light, your smile just as friendly.

“It’s far too cold to bother with reminiscing,” he’d said, glowering at you. Looking at the hard set of his jaw, this is when you’d begun to worry that you’d done something to upset him.

“Is everything alright?” you’d asked, reaching out for his arm.

“It’s fine,” he’d replied, curtly, retreating from your grasp. “I just don’t want to be colder than I already am.”

You’d sent a message to Gale, instructing him to call off the magical skywriting over the Elfsong.

For your fourth attempt, you knew you needed someone with a slightly more forceful personality– and to perhaps lean a little less romantic.

“Astarion,” you’d begun, inflecting your tone with just the right amount of panic. “Lae’zel’s found a flock of mephits along the beach of Wyrm’s Crossing. She needs our help.”

“Mephits?” he’d asked, looking at you cautiously. “In Wyrm’s Crossing?”

“Yes,” you’d replied, nodding hurriedly. “We need to go now.”

He’d clicked his tongue at you and shaken his head. “As if Lae’zel couldn’t crush them all with a single swing. Seems to me like she’s grown lazy after all of her heroics.”

“Astarion,” you’d chided. “You know she will incredibly cross at us if she finds out you declined to help.”

“I’ll survive,” he’d said, returning to the book on his lap, hands turning paler than usual in a tense vice grip. “Probably.”

After, you’d sent a message to Lae’zel, instructing her to do as she pleased with the stash of fireworks on the beach.

The fifth time you’d grown genuinely, truly worried that something was wrong with Astarion because, by the gods, the man had refused to commit crime with you.

After so many failed attempts, you’d figured that you needed to go back to the roots of your relationship– to a simpler time when petty theft gave you some time alone together.

“I heard a rumor through the guild,” you’d said offhandedly over dinner. “A newly minted noble in the Upper City has quite the horde of wealth and very little security. What do you say that we pay them a visit, perhaps ‘relieve’ them of some of their wealth?”

Astarion had faltered, clearly tempted by your offer. But after nearly two weeks of avoiding going anywhere with you, he didn’t outright agree either. “And why would you need me for this particular job?”

The question had taken you aback. You’d never needed a reason to invite him along for crime of all things. It made you near certain that he knew what you were up to and that something about it was distasteful to him. Sweet hells, it made you nervous. “I, erm… well, I could use an extra pair of hands to carry it all, I suppose?”

“I could lend you my pack then,” he’d said, narrowing his eyes at you.

Why is he trying to avoid me? Have his feelings changed? you’d thought in fear. Aloud, you’d only doubled down. “Well, the company might be nice. And you know that your lockpicking is, somehow, better than mine.”

“I thought you said security was sparse,” he’d countered.

“Sparse doesn’t mean nonexistent.”

“Not much of a challenge then, is it?”

You had wanted to scream into the astral plane. Wanted to flip the table over his pretty pale face. Wanted to tell him, ‘You know what, I didn’t want to marry such a stubborn vampire anyway!’ – but you did none of those things. Because you love this man and, even when he’s being difficult, you do want to marry him.

So you had gritted your teeth and said, “Very well then. I shall borrow your pack.”

You’d sent a message to Wyll later to call off his father’s help with the upper city guards.

For your sixth attempt, you decide you first need to reconvene with your council– also known as your former companions. 

When you’d first met with them at the start of this whole ordeal, you’d snuck away from Astarion. It made you feel a bit guilty, sneaking around, hiding things from him, but the entire proposal was meant to be a fun surprise– one you are starting to suspect is a misguided effort. 

You profess as much aloud now that you’re meeting up with the five of them again, seated around the table in Jaheira’s kitchen. “Maybe there is no sixth attempt. Maybe I’ve overestimated the love between us.”

“Don’t say that,” Wyll says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly in reassurance. “Your love is strong. And together we will find a way to make this proposal work.”

You smile up at the man, one always so willing to believe in the power of a good love story. You’re almost sorry to be disappointing him– and the smut peddlers. Really, you’re sorry to be disappointing all of your friends. Each of your companions had been eager to help you in your endeavor, in their own ways, of course.

Gale had congratulated you prematurely at first, misunderstanding your Sending spell. But when you’d clarified, asked him for his help, he’d only been incredibly enthused, arriving the very next day, offering all manner of suggestions.

Karlach, for her part, was only ever excited, practically bouncing off the walls that two of her best mates may potentially tie the knot. At the low, low price of allowing her to be your person of honor, she was entirely at your disposal.

Lae’zel had been confused initially. In her mind, you were already committed to a life together. What was the purpose of this… proposal? Of marriage? But when you’d explained to her a bit, she’d been curious– and excited at the potential of catching Astarion off guard.

Shadowheart had seemed surprised when you’d asked. You weren’t already married? Alas, she’d gotten the plot of one of the many bawdy novels about you confused with real life. No matter, she was happy to help.

And, well, Wyll– when he returned from Avernus he’d been disappointed that you weren’t at the very least engaged yet. It was no shock or awe to him when you visited him for help. In fact, he had only given you a wry smile and said, “I knew you would be the one to cave.”

As for Jaheira, well, she was allowing you to use her house as a headquarters, but had proclaimed early, “Invite me to the wedding and I shall be there, but until then– well, this is for you lot to figure out.”

And gods were you having trouble figuring it out.

“I don’t know, Wyll. I’m worried Astarion may never revert back to normal at this rate,” you say, shaking your head.

“Was he ever normal?” Shadowheart asks with a soft snort. “Besides, he can be awfully dense at times, you may just need to ask him outright.”

“There is not a single realm in which Astarion says yes to a simple proposal,” you say, brows furrowing. “You know he’d want something flashy.”

Gale raises a finger sagely before countering, “Well, my friend, sometimes what we want and what we need are two different things. I’m inclined to agree that you may just need to pop the question.”

“What if…” you trail off, your worries from the past weeks bogging down your thoughts. Somehow, despite everything you’ve been through, this seems to be your toughest challenge yet. “Do you think he knows what I’m doing and is simply too afraid to reject me?” you ask the group, turning to each of them with pleading eyes. You’re honestly not sure you can take his rejection, especially after the last five rebuffs.

“Not a chance in the hells,” Karlach answers. “I think he’s being a right idiot, actually. And if he knew what was happening, he may even say yes before you can so much as get the question out.”

“Really?” Your mood lightens a bit, her harsh words slashing through the hardened doubts that have settled over your heart. 

“Is it any surprise to us that Astarion is incapable of seeing the truth before him?” Lae’zel says, rolling her eyes. “Such sharp skills, yet completely dull in the face of our efforts.”

“Again, we may just need a softer touch,” Shadowheart suggests, tilting her head at you.

You’re not sure what a softer touch might be, and, from the silence that follows, neither are any of your companions.

Your resident wizard is the first to break the silence. “I could always create a simulacra–”

“Gale,” Wyll interjects, politely. “I’m afraid I don’t think that’s much softer.”

“Right,” Gale says, leaning back in his seat.

Another long moment of silence and you’re truly starting to feel defeated. You hang your head a bit, thoughts filled with the image of a certain beautiful, pale elf’s mouth curling at you in distaste, forming a pronounced ‘no.’

“Soldier,” Karlach starts. You look up to see her smirking at you. “If he won’t willingly join you anywhere. I think we both know what you need to do.”

–

They are going to sink the final nail in the metaphorical coffin.

For nearly two weeks now, Astarion has successfully avoided his lover’s attempts to get together in a public space– likely what they saw was the best, most civil way to dispose of him. But, foolish as it is to cling to something like a withered love, Astarion doesn’t want this relationship to end.

Perhaps, if I can do this for long enough, they will change their mind, he thinks. Gods, that sounds pathetic, even for him.

Astarion was running out of excuses, and, worse yet, running out of willpower. What is the use in fighting the inevitable? he thinks, as he walks down the streets of Baldur’s Gate. It’s a moonlit night, and he’s on the prowl for a criminal to bite– he needs something, anything to distract him from his woes.

He turns the corner, on high alert.

Then again, a more selfish part of him counters. Why shouldn't you fight for your love? They were the first good thing to ever happen to you in this damned world.

That’s when he spots them– the-first-good-thing-to-ever-happen-to-him is hiding behind a bush directly before him, facing another alleyway. There are very few reasons that they would be out at this time of night, in the middle of this particular street of Baldur’s Gate. While they could be on a mission for the guild, he had last seen them at home, reading by the fire. It’s clear that they followed him, are waiting to ambush him.

Is this it? he thinks, eyes narrowing. His chest hurts, more than ought to be possible given his lack of beating heart. Is this how desperate they are to be rid of me? May as well go out with flair, I suppose…

Astarion sneaks forward, careful to remain outside of your field of view. He settles behind you in the darkness of the bush, watching you as you look out for him. Despite the ache in his heart, the clenching of his stomach, he can’t help but think of how lovely you look under the moonlight– of how lucky he has been to have had you.

If this truly is it, he thinks. I can’t wallow or cry. I shall hold my head high and consider myself fortunate to have met them. To have loved them. At least, he hopes he’s capable of such a performance. Because right now, quietly crouched next to you, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to beg you to reconsider.

But no. He refuses to look pathetic– not after the life he has lived.

So, after waiting with you for a few minutes, he leans forward into your personal space and asks, “Darling, what are you doing?”

Astarion is ready for your instincts to kick in, so when your knife is drawn in a flash and you’re lunging for him, he’s easily dodging backward, holding his hands up in peace. “Now, now darling, I thought we were past the knives at throats.”

“Astarion?” you ask, startled. “Sweet hells, you haven’t snuck up on me like that in years.”

“Yes, well,” he says, avoiding your eyes now. He’s surprised by how much gazing into them has weakened his composure already. “You also haven’t looked so utterly distracted by your own thoughts in years either.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, ignoring his words. “I thought…”

Yes, dear, what did you think? he wants to ask, to catch you in the act with a cruel moment of revelation, to hurt you as much as you’re about to hurt him. But when he brings his eyes back to yours, he knows he can’t do that. While he’s still capable of maiming, killing, all manner of atrocities– he cannot hurt you. So he only says, “I was out hunting and I saw you hiding in a bush. What are you doing here?”

“I–” you falter, seemingly torn. Perhaps you’re having second thoughts. Perhaps this is his chance to keep you from breaking his cold, crumbling heart.

“Do you need assistance, dear?” he asks, ready and willing to show how much he would do for you. Anything, honestly, if it means you’ll stay by his side.

“Gods, I keep mucking this all up,” you mutter, head hanging in uncharacteristic defeat. “Maybe Shadowheart was right.”

What did that damned cleric do now? Is she the one you’re leaving him for? He’s about to make a reflexive, snide comment about her veritable barnyard of animals, but stops when he sees you sheath your blade. When you wipe a hand over your face in frustration.

Oh. You’re miserable. You wouldn’t look like this normally. You would never be this nervous, this stressed to see him– not unless his very presence had turned toxic. “I should go, shouldn’t I?” he asks, throat tight.

“No!” you say, reaching out a hand to keep him from leaving. Your grip is tight, painful in its panic, but he doesn’t complain. How could he when you look like this? 

More than anything, he wants this worry that lines your face to fade, the jittery movement of your hands to abate. So maybe it’s up to him to spark the beginning of the end… “Did you… have something you wanted to tell me?” he asks, swallowing down the fear that threatens to overwhelm him.

“I…” you gulp, bringing your second hand to join the first, loosening your grip. You raise your head, and he sees the tumult in your gaze. At the very least, you must care about him somewhat to stress yourself this much. “Astarion, please don’t be upset.”

How could he not? But, somehow, he manages a sad smile at you anyway. “As if I could ever be upset with you, my love.”

Then you drop to a knee in front of him.

– 

“Astarion,” you say, voice shaking a bit with nerves. “I had wanted this to be something lovely. Something meaningful. But… I guess you love ruining plans, don’t you?”

“What,” he breathes out, confusion plain on his face. His red eyes dart between yours, as if trying to process a sudden, large shift. You suppose it would be a shift in your relationship, even if you were practically married already. If he even decided to say yes.

You release his arm with one hand, reaching into your side pouch for the small square box that’s waiting for you. Fingers less dexterous than usual, you fumble over clutching it, opening it single handedly. You’re not used to looking this foolish, and you can feel a heat over your cheeks, an anxious shake to your movements.

But before too long the box is open, a shining platinum band resting inside.

It looks like everything you’d hoped for in the moment– its inlaid red rubies catch the moonlight just beautifully. You’d spent weeks agonizing, wondering if you had picked the right one, imagining what it might look like were it to be placed on his perfect pale finger. Here and now, with this man standing before you, you know it would look exquisite.

“Astarion,” you start again, courage returning to you with that knowledge, some of the words you’d prepared coming back to your mind. “These past years together have been the best years of my life. You’re my best friend, my dual blade, and I love you more than I can even say. I don’t know what our future holds, but I would consider myself lucky to walk towards it with you at my side. So…” You pull the ring from the box, holding it up to the man you love with a smile. “Would you, Astarion Ancunín, do me the honor of marrying me?”

Astarion Ancunín, despite years of quick quips and sultry words, seems to be frozen in place, unable to speak.

You’re used to these moments, when he needs to process, but you’re not used to them when you’re on one knee, waiting for a response. “Astarion?” you hazard.

“You’re…” he says, face slack, mouth barely moving. “You’re proposing to me?”

It’s not a no, but it’s certainly not the reaction you’d be hoping for. “Erm, yes. Is that… distasteful to you?” You can feel your hand recoil somewhat, your smile slip.

His expression remains blank, lips slightly agape as he continues to take in the scene before him. “You– you don’t have a new lover? You’re not planning to leave me?”

“What?” Now it’s your turn to be flabbergasted. “Astarion, what are you talking about?”

The sigh that leaves him then could collapse a small house. “Sweet hells,” he says, face and body relaxing. “I thought… I thought that you were acting odd, like– like–”

“Like I was trying to surprise you with the magnificent proposal you deserve?” you respond, suddenly understanding his behavior and growing a smidge annoyed. “Like I didn’t want to propose to you behind some damned bushes?”

Astarion looks around, as if just now realizing where you are, what is happening. “Yes, now that you mention it, like that.”

You want to be upset, but then the man above you laughs. It’s light, breathy, and utterly relieved. “You were really worried, weren’t you?”

“Oh my sweet love, I was about ready to jump into an Oubliette,” he says, shaking his head ruefully.

“You thought I would leave you, just like that?” you ask, brows furrowing in concern. Maybe you should have just proposed in your living room.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he says, looking down at you with a tinge of sadness in his smile. “I doubt that this was the life you were looking for, darling. As a matter of fact, are you… sure about this?” He eyes the ring in your hand, all but forgotten in his confusion.

You proffer it again, raising your hand a bit higher this time. “The only life I’m looking for is the one with you in it, Astarion. I am quite sure.”

His scarlet eyes dart between yours questioningly, and you merely stare back, staunch in your words and intent. “Even if I’m a fool that forced your hand– left you kneeling in the dirt?”

“We’ve done worse things on dirt, Astarion,” you say, smiling widening at the memory of the first time he’d told you he loved you. “If you’d like me to get out of the dirt though, you could answer my question: Would you marry me?”

__

Once more, he looks between your eyes, this time his are wide, open– daring to believe that his darkest fears are just that. Fears. Ones that you would vanquish without a second thought. How could he have been so blind to that. Moisture pools at the corner of his eyes at the realization.

So he drops to his knees, reaching for your face with his hands. In a single movement, he’s pulled you toward him, captured your lips with his with an undeniable longing. A longing to hold you in his hands for as long as he is able. A longing to taste your lips on his, each and every day. A longing to never be without you, to be yours until death do you part.

You respond to his kiss in kind, lips pressing against him with your own pent up longing. He distantly hears the ring’s box fall to the floor, feels your hand brush past his ear to clutch his hair. You kiss him like he’s the answer to every question you’ve ever had and he feels a small tear run down his face as his eyes squeeze tightly shut.

Gods he would never tire of kissing you.

I ought to respond, he thinks in the back of his head, as he moves his lips against yours.

Is this not response enough? he argues, not wanting to break apart from you, for even a moment.

No, it wouldn’t do to have any confusion, not after the past two weeks.

So, before he can forget himself, he pulls back from you, far enough to look into your eyes. “That was a ‘yes’ in case that wasn’t evident.”

You laugh, short and breathless. “Oh good,” you say, leaning back further and bringing up the ring between you. “Then may I?”

Astarion removes his left hand from your face, holds it out to you with a large, gleeful smile. “You may.”

You slip the ring onto his finger. It fits well, matches his eyes, looks positively sumptuous– as always, you know him too well. “It’s stunning,” he says, angling it one way then another.

“I’m glad you like it,” you say, smiling at the sight. “And that you didn’t catch me when I tried to sneak it past you.”

The vampire laughs, shaking his head free of his own silly thoughts. “I smashed your plans into tiny little pieces, didn’t I?”

You don’t say yes, but the look on your face is evidence enough. “I’ll tell you all about what you missed out on later. For now, we should, erm, go get our friends.”

“Go get our friends?” he asks, wondering what in the hells they have to do with all of this.

“Yes,” you say, planting a kiss on his hand before moving to get up. “They’re all in place for another one of these ill fated plans.”

“Ah,” he says, following you up. Then, realizing what you’ve said, he looks at you with concern. “Just what were you in this bush for?”

To your credit, you look abashed. But your words do nothing to lessen his concern. “Seeing as you were refusing to come with me, well, anywhere, we had to pivot our strategy.”

“Darling,” he starts, his tone a deceptive sweetness. “Whatever does that mean?”

“It was Karlach’s plan,” you say, as a means of explanation.

“Oh good. I’m sure whatever it was was perfectly sane then.”

Scratching at the back of your neck, you finally admit the plan, “I was going to give them a signal when you passed. Gale was going to make an illusory double of me getting kidnapped by the rest of them in disguise, then hopefully you would take chase to go save me, they would lose you just as you got to the Elfsong where I would be waiting…”

Astarion looks at you sharply, his mouth a disapproving line. “Really?”

“In retrospect, I can see the flaws in the plan,” you say, palms open. “But in my defense, I was getting desperate. Either way, we ought to go get them. Karlach seemed just about ready to explode from hiding that long.”

“Fine,” he says reluctantly. “This is what we get for having such imbeciles for friends.”

“Funny,” you start, holding out a hand to him. “They said the same about you.”

He takes your hand with an exaggerated eye roll, but can’t help the smile that comes over his face at the feeling of your fingers twining with his. “It’s a shame you had to resort to them for help.”

“I really needed it. You know, I have killed more people than I can count, but you have been my most challenging mark by far,” you say, dramatically as you begin to walk down the alleyway.

“Worse than the giant, world-ending brain?”

“Oh yes.”

The two of you walk in silence for a few steps before Astarion feels compelled to say one last thing before reaching your friends. “Darling, I truly am sorry I ruined all of your plans, but I must ask: Please don’t try to surprise me like this again.”

The expression on your face deflates a little, and you say, “I thought you would like something grand?”

He brings your hand up to his lips for a soft, reassuring peck. “Normally, yes. But, I love you so very much. I’m afraid it clouds my usually impeccable judgment.”

You don’t comment on his judgment, instead focusing on his proclamation of love. “I love you too. So, hopefully, there isn’t a second proposal.”

“One can only hope,” Astarion says with a laugh. “And, if there is, perhaps it’s my turn to do the proposing?”

“Love, if you surprise me, I may kill you,” you say, plainly.

“A risk I’ve always been willing to take, my dear,” the man replies, pulling on your hand. “Now, come. I think I can spot Wyll’s peeking eye from here.”

Hand-in-hand, the two of you walk toward your waiting friends, ready to tell them the good news.

It wasn’t the grand proposal you had envisioned. Nor was it even a particularly romantic one. But, somehow, it was still perfect, still loving, still the beautiful new beginning to the rest of your lives together.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #rogue + rogue #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #astarion fic #love at first knife #tadfools tomfoolery #astarion fanfic #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion pov #astarion is bad at feelings #proposal fic

[spdrslayr]

004. atsv headcanons ! ★ post collider jonathon ohnn x reader…

! pt. 1 - pre collider hcs. ⁀➷ srcs... masterlist .rules. intro .

| synopsis, ୨♡୧ a little glimpse into your relationship with the spot.

★ tags -> gender neutral reader; johnathon ohnn; the spot; fluff; etc...

★ warnings -> cursing; johnathon being a meanie; mentions of trauma & abandonment

★ w.c -> 1,028

| xox, mei! ୨♡୧ -> i'm sorry these are so much shorter than p1.! tbh i had some trouble making these post-collider headcanons - so i might make a third part with more depth :] for now i hope this is okay!!

you’re everything to him. before the accident, he wasn’t too open about his feelings. anything about his stressful home life as a child and his insecurity paled in comparison to his work, and you. but once everyone else abandoned him after the accident, he found himself lost in you. you saved him at a time when he wanted nothing more than to disappear, bringing him back to the real world with your love and affection. 

at first, he really doesn’t like talking about the accident. but it doesn’t take long for him to fall apart before you, trembling and crying as he vents. late in the night, you’ll soothe him, holding him close while he cries into the crook of your neck. 

johnathon’s still awkward, but he’s cockier. in spite of all the tragedy, he feels so powerful now. his initial appearance aside, johnny’s more confident now that he can literally control the entire multiverse. it makes him feel worthy of your love in a way that wasn’t present before he became the spot.  

he’ll say flirty things out loud that he wouldn’t dare tell you in the past, being more forward and upfront about his attraction towards you.

johnathon’s mischievous ass got the best powers to fuck around with. he’ll pop out of nowhere to scare the shit out of you and it sends him into a fit of giggles.

johnathon’s far more protective of you now. before the accident, he’d worry about you, but trusted that you were strong enough to fend for yourself. now? anything’s possible. it doesn’t matter if he trusts you when doesn’t trust anyone else. he likes knowing where you are and when you’ll be back home. he loathes the thought of anyone taking you away from him, especially spider-man. 

sometimes he’ll go out with you. nyc is dangerous so he’ll be by your side, looming in a horrible disguise with well-meaning intentions. he just wants to keep you safe.

he loves annoying you with his spot and hole puns. being with someone who accepts him really helped in regards to finding the good in his new powers.

“holy moly!”

“that’s a whole lotta trouble.”

you got him a kitty cat. johnny doesn’t really work anymore, so a lot of times he’s stuck at home alone. he tries so hard not to seem clingy but he can’t help but mope whenever you leave. when you first got cow, johnathon was a little insulted.

“i’m a super villain! I don’t need a cat!”

they became best friends within the span of 24 hours.

#atsv #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #johnathon ohnn #johnathon ohnn x reader #the spot #the spot x reader #jonathan ohnn #jonathan ohnn x reader #johnathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader

[chaisshitposts]

Hi I am rabbit🐇 anon and I wanna say that Idk why but i m not understanding the pych-k method like i don't get what PPL say especially when ppl tag that post I just don't get it so can you tell step by step how to do pych-k method for void.

P.s we r same age lol

oh yeah??? cool! glad to meet a fellow adult 🐇 anon🤝 and that's ok, I'm more than happy to explain it for ya in simpler terms, it be like that sometimes so I get it. yer mind is like a computer, yer subconscious is the motherboard of info, and while ya do psych-k ya are basically downloadin' an entirely new program with new codin' and all that jazz with the affirmations ya choose, then ya save that affirmation in yer motherboard.

psych-k is about usin' yer entire brain, both hemispheres simultaneously, and how to do it is super simple. when you're just startin' out with it, I always recommend that ya start off with your left side (it doesn't really matter what side ya start with but some people do better when they have clear instructions)

left side -> ya wanna start off with crossin' yer left ankle over yer right ankle, set yerself a five minute timer and then start it, immediately afterwards you're gonna cross yer left wrist over yer right wrist and then interlock yer fingers. for a visual aid, check out this video -> it's not very long and I hope it'll be easy for ya to follow while ya are doin' this pose, you're gonna close yer eyes and repeat yer affirmation for the duration of yer timer. with this pose, ya more than likely will start to feel an influx of thoughts that may try and argue with yer affirmation. it's important to invite those negative thoughts and just let them flow, let them happen, and just keep repeatin' yer affirmation over and over. what yer doin' is teachin' yerself somethin' new until these resistant and negative thoughts disappear. i should also mention that sometimes ya may not experience any negative thoughts at all, which is fine too, just keep affirmin' for the five minutes. some folks also report that they feel physical symptoms when doin' psych-k, which is also normal, and it's perfectly okay if ya don't, that's also normal, everyone is impacted differently.

ya hold this posture for the entirety of yer five minute timer. once you're done you're gonna 'save' yer progress by uncrossin' your ankles and wrists and then press the finger tips of both yer hands together (kinda like when villains are havin' their evil scheme moment, y'know) just make sure all yer fingers touch each other and hold it for 10 seconds --- like below BUT MAKE SURE ALL YER FINGERS TOUCH TIPS 🙏, no palms need to be touched, you're not prayin'.

once you're done, you're gonna repeat the entire process for the right side where ya cross yer right ankle over left ankle, and yer right wrist over yer left wrist, hold that pose for five minutes with yer timer and then save it again with the pose mentioned above.

ideally, this'll completely change whatever limitin' belief ya had with the affirmation ya chose after a single session, BUT sometimes it can take more than one single session of psych-k which is also completely normal especially when dealin' with something that's been deeply embedded in yer mind for such a long time. think of it like a stubborn program in yer computer that you're tryna get rid of, sometimes it can take a few tries to completely wipe out the old programming.

somethin' else that can happen is that psych-k did work but does not instantly reflect in your 3D which can sometimes make people think it didn't work so they fall back into old thinkin' and start reaffirmin' the old story. h o w e v e r, ya can easily find out if psych-k worked through the use of muscle testin'. I'll provide some reference posts for muscle testin' below which can also be used in combination with any and all methods of manifestin'.

muscle testing applied kinesiology

psych-k is just a form of focused, super affirmin'. it can also be used to calm yerself down just from simply crossin' your ankles, many people do it unconsciously without realizin'. i recommend that the next time ya have a moment of panic, anxiety, or any other negative feeling, ya should try crossin' yer ankles and see what happens. 🕵️

if ya need anymore clarification, just let me know!!!

#— chai's asks. !! ~ #— 🐇 anon. !!~ #psych k #psych-k

[floufli]

Admit It

Chapter 1 : Discoveries (3.7K)

Summary:

Before the whole "multiverse collapsing" thing, everything was going pretty smoothly for you. As Spider-woman, you saved people, beat up villains and lived an calm and uneventful civilian life. But everything seemed to have changed the moment one boy was bitten by some radioactive spider. Now, the villains you faced have become more active, and always seemed to disappear before you could deliver them to the police. One day, you manage to finally catch the trail of the ones that kept stealing your catches, only to be left to discover another facet of your life waiting for you.

Will this end well for you? You could only hope so. But you are perfectly okay with risking it all, after all, that "Miguel" got one hell of an ass to make up for it.

Tags:

Miguel o'hara x fem!reader, violence, mature language and reference, Reader has the same arms thingies as Miguel, WILL BECOME MINOR NON FRIENDLY QUICK SO HOP HOP GET OUT OF HERE, future tags

MasterList

Chapter: 2

Author notes:

I deleted the post by mistake and almost shot myself. Otherwise hope you'll like it, I'm not a fanfic poster so I don't know my writing skills. ANywAyS. Enjoy.

Don't copy to another site or I'm gonna be big mad >:C and don't feed to AI obviously

A sight escaped your lips as you gazed upon the lively city before your eyes. With your hands grasping firmly onto the tissue of your mask, you let your eyes wander across the breathtaking buildings in front of you.

Fond of architecture wasn't the best term to describe yourself, as the sight of grey concrete and skyscrapers often became boring for someone like you, who spent all day and night in between the small gaps of each building. But it was where you spent most of your life, so you were sometimes forced to admire its beauty, even when said beauty had become the daily norm.

Positioned on top of some fancy building surely made for yet another big cooperative profit, you gaze at the horizon as the sun set, ending yet another long and tiring day. You closed your sensitive eyes as you appreciated the last few rays of sunlight that reached your face, your hair flowing freely behind you, now free of the mask's restraints.

If one would have told you you would become some spider-woman that fought for justice at your city scale, jumping from building to building by shooting webs to swing on... Yeah, you would have surely told them to go see a therapist. And yet there you were, a bit sore after today's load of work fighting some local thugs and one freak that tried to blow up a boutique. You were quite lucky if you were being honest. Only leaving the scenes with some minor bruises and a few cuts here and there on your body, could have been worse.

You really needed to get yourself a better suit, you thought. As this one had grow to become a bit too thin and easy the slit open for your taste.

The air had a slight chill today, announcing the forthcoming winter and with it the decrease in crime rate. After all, even criminals didn't like to spend the day out while it snowed like there would be no tomorrow, leaving the entire city covered in a pure white blanket, seemingly erasing the blood embedded in its pavement, only to be left with a much appreciated calm after yet another eventful year.

The image in your head was barely months away, and still, you couldn't wait for your much-needed vacation. Beating up some serious threats to the people had always left a satisfying aftertaste in your mouth, but even you needed a break from time to time to catch your breath.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the tight grasp you had on your mask, leaving your hand marked by your fingernails. Exhaling heavily, you put the piece of fabric back on your face, the arachnid-like design concealing your identity from the population.

You stood up from your previous crouching position on the edge of the skyscraper, mind at peace just as you went to jump off the edge.

Your foot dangled into the void below as if touching the shining light of cars and street lamps down below. Finally shifting your weight fully, you felt the familiar falling euphoria take over your enhanced senses. The sudden drop disoriented you for just a nanosecond as your body plunged down rapidly. Air blowing in your ears, you allowed the fall to last as much as your survival instinct let you.

It was relieving, the soreness of your body seemingly forgotten as you went down straight for the ground, letting you feel as if you were flying peacefully, and not at all risking being spread out on the concrete floor.

Ending the moment against your best wishes, you cast one of your webs onto the height of a building facing you, leaving your break behind you and swinging forward onto who knows what, maybe a villain or two- or even some nitroglycerine maniac.

You were the only one capable of protecting New York after all. Who could do this job except the one and only spider-woman?

"Miguel calm down. It's not that big of a deal you know?" Lyla's voice tried to soothe the agitated man. But to no avail.

The tall man was perambulating across the room, his steps echoing heavily into the gigantic hall.

"I can't, I can't that's it! This is definitely it! I'm going to lose it. Lo fucking juro." His tensed body roamed in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. Fingers pinching his nose, he tried to prevent the headache that was surely coming his way.

His failure at doing so was quite obvious, to say the least. Heavy breathing left his imposing form as he glared at his AI assistant.

"Not that big of a deal?! Do you have any ideas of what could have happened if at the time this maniac had managed to achieve opening a portal between universes? That would have-"

"Put the whole multiverse at risk of being destroyed blah blah blah .." Lyla interjected, gaining another furious red glare from her boss.

"This isn't funny Lyla for fuck's sake. I'm trying to save lives here." He stated in defeat. "The whole ordeal could have been easily avoided if he just didn't get bit by the spider. You know just as well as I do how much two Spidermen can't be at the same time. Their dimension would be a bomb waiting for the slightest disturbance to be completely annihilated."

"How did you want him to know to "just don't get bitten by the spider " Huh? It obviously crawled its way to him without him noticing, you know JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER SPIDERMEN IN THE MULTIVERSE EXCEPT YOU??? "

The small image of the woman flickered for a few seconds with annoyance, teleporting from her current place to right in in his face. She went from standing calmly to looking down at the huge man below her, hand grabbing her hips firmly to reinforce her statement.

"..."

If looks could kill she would surely be concerned for her life, lucky she was to be immaterial.

Stop worrying so much we're in the clear now. She thought angrily.

Closing her eyes as she let out a heavy sigh, her shoulder falling down, she tried to reassure her boss once again.

"Listen Miguel, we're all good now the multiverse is safe, and everyone is back in their own dimensions. No need to mull over it for hours now~~" She cheered, flickering to more dynamic poses to cheer her boss up. "Besides, if you keep ruminating all day you'll worsen your eye bags." She said as she mimicked a circular motion below her own.

"It's not because we avoided the destruction of all the worlds once that we should just stand by and wait for it to go south again!!! What if another just tried to-"

He was cut off once more as the hall suddenly shone in bright red light, blinding his oversensitive eyes, and leaving him squinting and hissing at the unwelcome light. Arms shooting straight up to protect his vision, he ordered Lyla to find the problem. Fast.

"Well, THAT'S SOMETHING I DIDN'T THINK ABOUT MIGUEL!?" The AI assistant yelled, her form teleporting across the whole control panel, in a matter of seconds she went through all the data that had suddenly come up in the system. While Miguel's face was now covered with his mask, whilst the radiant light still shone brightly in rapid blinks.

Using his webs, he swung to where his assistant had abruptly frozen, her floating 2D body facing one of the central control panels of this unit. With careful steps he closed the distance between them, coming forward to see what the screen had displayed. At first, he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, the usual universe's data such as each local Spiderman, recent major events, etc...

He froze when he saw the pop-up that took most of the central panel, his heart almost stopping as he reread, again and again, the words on the screen. What did it mean? They never had something like this happen before. Surely the little interdimensional perturbations caused by the ones on earth 1610B had created a bigger mess than they could have ever anticipated.

! ANOMALY DETECTED !

Those were the words blinking brightly on the display, along with the regular sound of an alarm claiming all of their attention.

"¿Qué demonios...?" Miguel murmured, more to himself than to Lyla. Both their eyes wide open as they gaze upon the unfamiliar words, unsure of what to do now. What the hell was an anomaly? And what were they supposed to do now?

Feeling eyes on himself, he turned his head to face Lyla's, only to be met with the same uncertainty he could feel was slipping out of his covered eyes. It wasn't often that he would be left speechless and unable to make a decision, but this time he was at a complete loss. Unable to do much more than gape at the screen along with his assistant, a dreadful feeling sent a chill throughout his entire body, causing his whole form to tense significantly.

He didn't know what exactly he was supposed to do, but despite his lack of spider sense, he could trust his instinct; and whatever was waiting for them later on, it wasn't pretty.

A bit less than a year later

- BEFORE ACROSS THE SPIDER VERSE MAJOR EVENTS TIMELINE -

"Vulture, it's about time for you to think about retirement, Jezz." You declared while avoiding another of his rapid attacks just before he launched himself back up into the sky, out of your reach- or at least that's what he thought.

His laugh echoed into the now-empty streets of New York, the panicked crowd having left in a hurry the moment both of you started fighting for real.

You were positioned right below him at the moment, feet embedded into the ground, ready to propel yourself to him if the right occasion appeared. Times like these had come to be an usual occurrence in the last few months, which was kind of weird if someone asked you. It was as if every villain in the city and its surrounding had suddenly decided to come out to cause havoc.

And you were beginning to grow tired of the incessant attacks that occurred almost every day by now. Local problems like thieves or terrorists were easy to deal with but these kinds of villains needed much more of your time and energy than any other. Your arms and legs were starting to let you know of their limits too, if this was to continue for longer you weren't sure you could keep up.

And why do they always looks so different each time?

Exhaling a last time before jumping straight towards your enemy, you let your arms' spikes fully out, ready to strike down. Webbing the building just behind his flying form, you were able to come to him a mere seconds, surprising him as well as wiping the smile off his face.

"SHIT- WAIT-"

But his words only met deaf ears. Your arms aiming directly for his face, you had learned long ago that spearing your enemies only brought out more bad than good. So now when you fought, whoever might be your opposants, you were determined to use all of your spider strength, even if killing was the only solution. You would not be risking the lives of thousands of civilians just because of the ambitions of one individual. And you weren't naïve, if they could, they would kill you in the blink of an eye.

The impact was immediate and ruthless, leaving no room for escape after the strike. With your enhanced senses, you could easily pick up the sound of bones cracking below your knuckles, the sound lasting only an instant before Vulture's entire frame was launched into one of the decommissioned building a bit farther from the main city.

You may have gone a bit overboard with that one.

Not wasting a second to avoid him escaping you again, you swung your way toward the point of impact. An immense gaping hole was now, where before stood some form of architecture. It was positioned not more than twenty meters above the ground, so you knew that if he wasn't on the floor of the impact, he was surely still in the building.

I would have seen it if he just jumped out of it.

Landing gracefully upon the now bare floor, you searched for your prey, using all of your faculties to make sure you weren't missing anything. But you heard nothing, saw nothing either, only smelled the faint smell of him intertwined with other unfamiliar ones. Ones that were too fresh to only be coincidental.

"What the hell is happening again?" You said in consternation, it wasn't the first time that this happened to you. In fact, since the moment the attacks multiplied, you had almost always lost track of your attackers. You weren't perfect, you knew that, losing track once or twice every now and then would be normal knowing the nature of your job. But now it was redundant, except for a few times, you always came back empty-handed. Leaving the police just as confused as you were, even if you tried to explain to them what happened again and again. Some even began to question you competences.

This time was exactly the same as the others, you lose their sight for less than a minute and when you arrive they're already gone to who-knows-where.

That was really beginning to put your nerves to the test.

Angry, you tried to cool off by shooting one of the cans left there by its last inhabitant, causing it to hit one of the last standing pieces of furniture still standing- at least it was standing, until it abruptly collapsed on itself because of the harsh force of the hit, provoking a loud chaos in its fall. Most of what it contained was now spilled on the floor in a glorious mess.

"Oops"

You winced at the involuntary action, apologizing to whoever might come across this in the future.

"What the hell what that?!"

You froze in your tracks immediately, adopting a fighting stance on pure instinct. This was a girl's voice, you were certain of it, but what would a girl be doing here? Next to a fighting scene?

"I don't know and we don't have the time to investigate, we need to get this one back in his dimensions as fast as possible or Miguel will beat our asses." Another voice, a bit deeper answered. A woman this time, you thought, preparing yourself for a fight.

Were they the ones that continuously stole your catches for months now? Dimensions? Was that it? The final explanation for all this overload in your job? You didn't think of that one. Even if you really thought of it, you were almost happy with yourself to not have thought of this silly idea.

Well silly, it seems like- Anyway. Focus.

"Still I feel sorry for the Spider-woman that lives here, should we not let her know about it now? I mean, she is constantly fighting them and we just come to gather the pieces while she does all the work. Seems a bit unfair to me." The young girl responded.

By now you had silently come to rest on one of the walls facing the hole in the building, just next to what was once a door, but now deprived of anything door-like except for the gap in the wall. Putting your head on its surface, you were able to pick up the sound of their shoes along the floor, each of their movement, as well as the sound of struggling. As if they had contained somebody.

From the sounds, you could guess that there was a pretty long hallway that should be a least thirtyish meters from the echo of the voices alone.

So they really are the ones that kept taking them to wherever they came from.

"It's not something up to you or I do decide, Girl." The woman said, and just as she finished, you heard some weird beeping sound as well as a sudden detonation.

Oh heelll no. I'm not letting you go before you answer some questions.

Jumping to your feet, you bypassed the wall separating you from the two strangers, only to be met by a huge ball of light that almost blinded you before you could close your eyes.

Fucking sensitive eyes.

Regaining your senses fast, you quickly approached the two (well technically three but you chose to ignore him) before they escaped to wherever this portal thing would be taking them. Thanks to the detonation, you were able to walk to them without being noticed by either of them.

"Hey there, mind explaining what you doing here?" You stated, not more than five or so meters away from them, hands on your hips while you eyed them from head to toe. They were two, that you got right. And the weirdest thing of all was that they looked so much like you, smelt like you even. The youngest was dressed in a white and black outfit that looked like yours, while the other was a visibly pregnant woman with a red and black colored suit, the only difference being her glasses being her glasses whereas you and the girl both wore masks.

You could effortlessly see the panic in the youngest demeanor as she repeatedly looked from you to her 'friend', said friend on the other side looked kind of fed up. Her hand went to a sort of watch that she had on her wrist, the gadget looking way too advanced to only be a simple watch to your tastes.

"Miguel, we have something unexpected on our end what do we do?" She said as she locked her eyes with your covered ones.

"I'm kind of busy at the moment what is it ?" A masculine voice answered from the device. The deep tone causing a wave of chill to run through you, leaving you confused.

Damn, what was that?

Am I really that desperate to get laid seriously?

You reprimanded yourself, for real, since when did you let yourself be horny when you were working. You would have to find a way to get laid when you finished your day.

"The local Spider-woman has spotted us..." She said while looking at you unimpressed.

"Then just get out of there quick, what do you want me to do?" The man said before letting out a heavy sigh, the sound reviving a strange fire inside you, before some other noise, moving furniture you guessed, took over the communicator.

Stop that.

"That's the problem, Miguel, she is quite literally right in front of us and looking quite unpleased with the situation."

"..."

For whatever reason they didn't seem to enjoy the fact that you had seen the whole ordeal. The silence stretched agonizingly long before what you guessed to be their boss spoke again.

"I won't be back to the HQ before a few hours." A pause, as if to think carefully of his next words. "This dimension is where we detected the unusual number of anomalies isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. The bright side is that we have the one from today thank to her once more."

She smile at you warmly, trying to let you know that neither of them was a threat to you or your world. It worked in a sense, but you already knew that there was no need for you to be on your guard too much around them. Your instincts were telling you that these two at least were safe to be around. For the mysterious man on the other hand you didn't know, the weird reactions of your body unusual even to you.

" *Sight* Qué desastre..." He murmured in what you recognized to be Spanish. " Bring her into the HQ, if she managed to control all of them she could be a good ally on our side if she is fit for the job."

" I'll let Lyla know and make another goober. Try to not fuck it up this time."

And just like the conversation ended.

"What a jerk." You thought out loud, surprising both of the women facing you and causing the oldest to laugh lightly.

"You get used to it after a while, that's just how he is."

You crocked an eyebrow at the comment, that didn't mean he was allowed to be a impolite jerk but anyway. Bringing your attention back to the young girl that was now lifting the tied-up body of the Vulture, you felt kind of lost. What was that all about? Anomalies? Local Spider-Woman? They were other like you? Where the two Spider-Women too from other dimensions? The more you learned about the strangers, the more you were confused and left with more questions, as you didn't want to make false assumptions.

Sensing your hesitation, the woman approached you carefully before putting a hand on your shoulder.

"I know it's a bit much to absorb at the moment but you'll understand when we will get to the HQ. Only if you want to go I mean. You're not obligated to follow us, even if Miguel authorized you to." She said before whispering something to herself that you almost missed, but thanks to your amazing hearing didn't. Something along the line of 'he isn't so compliant per usual.'

Looking behind her as both the girl and the Vulture disappeared into the bright portal, you made your decision.

"I mean, what should I do? Just stay behind and miss all the fun? Nah. You got me curious now so you better have a good justification for all the jackasses that got my ass sore for the last few months."

You didn't mean for it to sound like that.

But it was too late anyway, and surely she understood what you meant. And by the smile playing on her face, she did.

"Yeah, don't worry we got everything prepared for that."

Retracting her arms from your shoulder, she turned around to face the portal. As she took a few steps you followed, still a bit apprehensive of the unknown device. When she disappeared like the other two moments before, you exhaled heavily, steadying your breathing.

"Oh, Fuck it."

And just like that you launched yourself straight into the entrance, silently praying that this thing didn't mind rapid moving objects moving through it or else you would be quite fucked.

.

Tag list : (tell me if you want to be added/deleted)

@stany0url0calwh0res111 @mira-dystopiancore @smotheredinlighterfluid @vvitcxen @st4rrlighttt @mstozierr @maxi-ride @miguelsmainb

#fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel x you #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #x you #x reader #reader #fem!reader #you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #atsv #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel x fem!reader #x fem!reader #female reader #spiderwoman reader #jessica drew #gwen stacy

[sunnydayzes]

A Supernatural Coming of Age Drama taking place in the town of Millhaven. The #Portsim Save file belongs to @florwal. All lore involving the town and the people in it, besides my own creative liberties, my characters, and supernatural lore, belongs to them. This story will be rated R and will contain several adult themes; including but not limited to teen pregnancy, drug abuse, and sexual themes. I will do my best to tag trigger warnings as they come up to hopefully prevent hurting anyone with my story.

Lyla Frye's entire life changed when her mother, Delilah, passed away from a long fight against an autoimmune disease that left her confined to her bed for years. The seventeen year old girl lost her home, and without any real family to turn to, she was forced out onto the streets to fend for herself. Before she could be taken away into foster care, Lyla gathered all of the money she had, a little over 500 dollars, and made her way to the local trailer park in an attempt to find a place to call home.

What Lyla doesn't know, however, is that because of her mother's passing, things are about to get very strange for her. She never knew much about her father, as he had disappeared when she was only two years old, but his legacy had been something that had haunted her for her entire life. Being a Frye came with responsibilities that she had no clue about, and she was unprepared for the challenges that awaited her. Surprises await around every corner for the young girl, and just like the phases of the moon, she would learn that change is inevitable - whether you're prepared for it or not.

PART ONE:NEW MOON - COMING SOON

Author's Notes Below The Cut!

Hi there!

If you are still reading this I wanted to say thank you. Phases is a story idea I've had in my mind for years. I've always wanted to implement it into Simblr, but I am admittedly not the best at world building nor am I the best at designing houses/decorating in this game. Making characters/giving them backstories is what I'm best at, and I'm still working on improving that skill.

So, when I came across this save file the other day, I was so inspired. I spent hours going over all of the lore that @florwal had already added into this save file, and I was shocked at how well it had always fitted the idea I had for my character, Lyla, and her story, which I've always called Phases.

I've really struggled with sticking with something/being consistent on Simblr, and honestly I think it's because I just don't enjoy doing challenges. I try to turn everything into a story and sometimes the stories just don't fit with what the confines of the challenge allow. I also simply haven't had the time I wish I had.

I work a full time job that is very demanding, and I don't often have time for gaming. But in an attempt to get back into writing, something that I've been struggling with the last few years despite how much I love it, and to find some joy outside of my work, I've decided to focus on telling Lyla's story - a story I've always wanted to tell and just haven't had the courage to.

I can't wait to start sharing this story with you all. I don't have a set date on when this will start, but I'm hoping to start posting this in October, as this is the perfect season for this story. Thank you for reading and I look forward to sharing this story that is almost a decade in the making.

With Love,

Tiffers

#story: phases #c: lyla frye #portsim #millhaven #sims story #sims 4 story #ts4 story #oh i am so nervous to be posting this #i've just been wanting to write this for so long #i'm tired of being scared #i want to write and i'm going to do it #and i hope you guys love it #:3

[serenanymph]

Hey everyone! I'm Serena - you can call me Ser - and my pronouns are she/her. This is the writeblr for @murderousewpecspredator! I'll mostly be reblogging writing resources, advice, inspiration etc. here. I'll also be posting my original fics and art, plus updates and snippets (and occasional screaming) as I work on my wips, so be on the lookout for that!

My works tend to include:

➼ high fantasy (occasionally dabbling in urban fantasy, dystopia or sci-fi) ➼ traumatized teenagers forming found families ➼ characters all flavors of queer + male-female friendships and queerplatonic relationships!! ➼ sad backstories ➼ hurt/comfort. SO much hurt/comfort. but also eventual happy endings where the characters get to live peacefully :) ➼ at least one character who is stubbornly kind in the face of a cruel world ➼ and hope!!! I love hope

Find me on: ao3 | wattpad

I'm looking for more writing mutuals so feel free to reply if you share similar writing genres/interests, and I'll give you a follow!

(works under cut)

WIPS

𝐵𝐸𝒜𝒮𝒯

In a world where monsters live in the woods - creatures with the ability to shift forms and wield magic - humans and Beasts have been fighting for centuries. One summer morning, Crys Averwell finds a crow-boy in the forest who has had his wings brutally hacked off.

Unfortunately, saving him from bleeding out is the easy part - because hiding the existence of a Beast from Crys's village, and finding a way for said Beast to get home?

That's going to be another story entirely.

𝒪𝓇,

My current wip!! High fantasy series with found families, banter™ and protags who aren't the heroes or the chosen ones but are just really, really unlucky. Also contains,

large casts

the Sarcastic Withdrawn one + the Ray of Sunshine Extroverted one

a Journey

undead creatures

cool magic with runes and potions and spells and Artifacts

Forests. and Mountains. and More Forests

discrimination, eventual rebellion, blowing stuff up

Sad Times

𝐵𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓈

➢ Crow Wings (2nd draft complete, 3rd draft to be started somewhere in July or August) ➢ Witch's Book (1st draft in progress) ➢ Untitled book 3, 4 and possible 5

series/book 1 intro, book 2 intro

taglist (lmk if you want to be +/-): @deer-in-headlights-stare, @allianaavelinjackson, @arctic-oceans, @space-writes, @reneesbooks

𝒞𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓊𝓅𝓉𝑒𝒹

It's the start of a new school year, and Sakoto Misami's brother has disappeared. Another runaway, people whisper - but Sami knows her brother isn't like that, knows that Irumi would never abandon them.

So when police fail to track him down, she decides to investigate on her own. And the things she finds begin to make her wonder - had she never known her brother after all?

Her questions are promptly answered when, that Friday night, on a deserted train platform, the lights flicker, and something inhuman comes out of the tunnel. Straight for her.

Enter the Swords.

𝒪𝓇,

The half-defined urban fantasy wip I take out to blow dust off of occasionally, because I cannot juggle for the life of me. I do write snippets sometimes though, and I'll properly get into it sometime in the future. Includes,

Cool Swords

spirit companions

a Weird Magic System involving Threads and Needles and Weaving and Fabric. I swear it makes sense I just haven't figured it out yet

subways!!! alleyways!!! parkours and night views and leaping from rooftop to rooftop!!!

traumatized teens, again, and found family, again. But also actual family

qprs!!! heck yeah I love qprs

Yeah that's pretty much it. I have a handful of other ideas I may mention once in a blue moon, but they're sitting on the backburner for now since I'm only able to focus on one project at a time. I also dabble in fanfic, and might occasionally post a short story or a poem, but that's all gotten to be pretty rare.

I'll make proper pages in a while, but until then feel free to poke around in the main tags! The gen tags are #beast and #corrupted, while official tags are #wip: beast and #wip: corrupted (though the last one is largely empty).

See you around!

-Ser

#pinned #my posts #intro #writeblr #writing #oh wow this sure got long #whoops #beast #corrupted #wip: beast #wip: corrupted

[earthtooz]

hi earth! i was wondering if you possibly had any advice for anyone who wants to start a writing blog or general tips. if you’re comfortable with it, it would also be cool to know what your writing process is like! you write very well so i’m just curious. thank you for taking the time to read this and i hope you have a lovely day!

first of all, this ask was what got me out of bed in the morning to go to my laptop where i did nothing for like 2 hours.

ANYWAYS I’ve been awake for seven hours now and i still haven’t answered it LOL, but thank u for taking the time to pop into my inbox anon!! so honoured u thought of me 🤭🤭

i’m more than happy to answer any questions u may have!! i’ve only been writing here for like one and a half years but I’ll gladly share some tips for new writers <3

tips for new writers - writing on tumblr in general:

formatting and your writing style is very important!!! people most of the time will like stories that have good grammar and are easy to read, so know your punctuation- duh, i mean, most people know where to put their commas, full stops, and shit, but as even a native English speaker i still need to double check sometimes 😭😭😭

ALSO, figure out if you’re a writer who likes to write with proper punctuation or in lower case like i am rn. people on tumblr don’t care which one you opt for so it’s a matter of personal preference!!

personally, i like to use proper punctuation for longer fics with more plot, and lower case writing for normal drabbles, headcannons, etc, all up to you :3 depends on what i feel like tho, i just like the look of lower case hehe

also, you can totally write drafts on tumblr or another platform - i switch between docs and tumblr. shorter pieces on tumblr and longer pieces on Google docs !!

how to get attention on tumblr as a new writer - the importance of tags:

USE THE TAGS - DON’T BE SHY !!! USE A VARIETY !!!! it’s so easy to get reads on tumblr if you just know your tags. i also will say: be mindful of whether or not you stay in tags bc your post can suddenly just disappear- this has happened to me so many times 😭😭 to do that just search if your fic is still popping up in the ‘recent’ section of the tags AND EVERY TIME AFTER U POST SOMETHING, TAKE THE TIME TO SEARCH IF IT’S IN THE ‘RECENT’ TAGS.

(this part might make zero sense, but if it’s been a couple hours and your post still is not popping up, you can either edit it again, make no changes, and press ‘save’.)

general tips:

have an aesthetic layout.

obviously it’s not ‘essential’, but i always find myself more likely to follow blogs that are pretty or have an aesthetics

it takes so long to do but it’s so worth it 😭 if you looks at the fics that do very well, the formatting it very beautiful and pleasing to the eye.

if you’re struggling with a layout, there are so many inspos available on tumblr, just search up ‘blog inspo’ or ‘layout inspo’ and you’ll generally be pretty successful. if all else fail just go to your fav blogs and see how they set up their blog/navigation/aesthetic!!!

having a set colour for your blog can also look nice and less chaotic. for example; mine is red and it’s my (usually) go-to colour for a lot of stuff. just make sure u like the colour tho ☝️

also don’t be afraid to talk to people! AUTHORS LOVE WHEN YOU COMPLIMENT THEIR WORK!! getting mutuals is such a great feeling so PUT YOURSELF OUT THERE !!!!! MAKE FRIENDS 😮😮

my writing process:

i am that writer that likes to have a plot before i start anything, but it’s never complete. normally when i’m going abt my day, i suddenly think of a piece of dialogue or scenario that makes me go ‘hold on. let me write that down’.

for example, recently i thought of a piece of dialogue for an angst fic (that i don’t know if i’ll use) that goes:

‘no i’m not upset that you forgot about our anniversary, in fact, i already predicted you would.’

another idea i had was: you don’t ever want to leave nagi seishiro hungry.

sometimes I get these ideas when i’m in bed like bro 😐 let me rest…

if i feel inspired enough to continue said ideas, i do, but i never force the fic from happening bc then it’ll be mediocre and just… okay. not something i want on my blog 😭

but then i decide the wordlength, how many scenes i want to be in there. for example, my mistletoe todoroki fic i set out for 4k and met my goal. but my itoshi rin Xmas fic only met around 1k when my goal was 2k - sometimes this happens and i cant be mad if i think the story is done there.

it’s never that organised though, if you look at my drafts, it’s a scrabble of words. i jump from scene to scene with big gaps in between that i need to fill in later 😭 but that’s just how i write LOL ! you may be totally different from me which is a-okay :3

then i grind til the fic is done, reread then bam 💪 ! do my usual formatting on tumblr, tags, and then you’ll see the final result!! easier said than done bc when you want to be done with a fic and just post it, you then need to do all the actual presentation of the fic 😭😭😭

anyways yeah, that’s my process summarised lol!! hope it helped u get a little bit of an idea for what the earthtooz blog grind looks like 🫡

so yeah, i think that’s all i rly need to say!! if you wanna follow my advice or not, up to u, but once again, thank u for popping in my inbox anon and asking me!! gave me something to do whilst on my walk 🤭

cant wait to see what you write, always feel free to come back and ask if you need some ‘extra help’, but i believe in you! good luck and have fun writing, and i hope to see u in the tags someday :D

#i might have more to add later but this is all i have now #earf’s inbox hours ✌️ #earfsmercury

[houndsofcorduff]

Find the Word Game!

Thank you for the tag @aohendo! You already know my thoughts on your excerpts but for anyone who hasn’t seen that post, please read it here. You won’t regret it.

My words were scar, hope, night, silver, and cradle. I could not find anything for silver and cradle unfortunately, I’ll have to work those in somewhere. But you can find those other excerpts with the words down below the cut!

Scar

The guards they met did not sweat in the summer heat, though the sun had nearly reached its apex. They immediately recognized Corduff, but were rightly suspicious when they spotted Awen on his heels. Awen took that as a good sign, she would have been disappointed in them if they had not questioned her. Some guards were too stupid to be concerned with a child. 

Three of them had gathered in front of the gate to meet them. Two men and a woman. One of the men wore a dark mask across his face with a thin slit across his eyes. It was covered in geometric designs of other dark colors that would blend in well with the forest terrain. The other man was tall and dark of skin and hair, he looked on Awen with the most suspicion. Finally the woman had pale brown hair, and a long scar across the bridge of her nose as well as a thick one that disappeared down beneath her tunic. 

Hope

“Indeed. There were many reasons I chose you, you’ll just have to trust me,” Drumcondra leaned back on his hands, looking up at the brightly shining stars. “It’s the beginning of a new era for both of us, Corduff. I just hope we’re all ready for what lies ahead.”

Night

Drumcondra smiled at his success. “Have I ever told you the story of when I first laid eyes on the great city?”

“You haven’t, but I would love to hear it,” she answered eagerly. 

Awen was always excited for a new story. Sometimes when she went to sleep at night, she would imagine another world, one where there had been no tragedy ten years ago. One where both of her parents were still alive and she had never left home. She imagined being friends with Arlyn, Corduff, Tomas, Keelia, Ula, and so many others. In her mind she would go on adventures with them and her grandfather, and her grandfather would tell stories to her little cousins about how she saved the day.

#tag game #find the word #wip: hounds of corduff #wip: stray #oc: drumcondra #oc: awen #oc: corduff #my writing

[greatbigbellies]

Hallo! I'm back!

TL;DR I'm mentally Ill and kinda crumpled from irl stuff the last couple of months, but I'm back and hope to stay a while. I'm also taking serious consideration into turning on tips for basically a lil extra funding for kink-related stuff like comms and stuff that I can't afford/justify atm. My writing comms are staying closed for the foreseeable future, sorry.

Hey everyone! Sorry for disappearing for... *checks watch* over two months. Last year was rough, and this year is starting off... frankly worse but that's just how it is sometimes. Unfortunately when things get rough the secret kink blog gets shelved first cause irl obligations just... can't be. But... I tentatively think stuff is stabilizing enough I can come back. So... here's where we're at...

Daily Queue Getting refilled as soon as this post goes live.

Comms Staying closed for the foreseeable future cause I don't have creative energy to work on paid projects at the moment. I'm working 2 jobs, volunteering, considering dating... I don't have space for them as much as it sucks.

Tips I'm very seriously considering turning on tips for this blog. It's not even a "I need the money for bills" thing because I can't rely on social media for steady income, it'd be like, fun money to put back into the preg-kink-economy. Save up enough tips and I can comm someone again, maybe tip someone else, buy a Kofi for someone, participate in a drive... all stuff I haven't been able to do in like a year. If there's a genuinely good argument to be made for not turning on tips, I'd love to hear it, but I'm not putting anything behind a paywall. It'd be just a little treat for me if anyone wanted to pay in cause they felt generous. I don't plan on pressuring anyone or even asking for tips. They'll just be there as an option.

McPreggo Menu The next update will come when it comes. The content is better when the mood strikes.

Asks Sorry to everyone who sent asks I'm gonna get those answered soon. I appreciate your patience.

Trans Girl Tummy Tuesday WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I'M SUPPOSED TO POST MY TUMMY EVERY WEEK AND THAT THERE'S A TAG FOR THAT? THIS IS AMAZING CONTENT! GOD BLESS ALL THESE FINE WOMEN!

Uh... I think that's it. Thank you all for coming to my ted talk!

#not bellies

[citrinesparkles]

I hope you don't mind me asking, but do you have any tips for anyone starting their own x reader(s) blog/doing requests? If not, I hope you have a nice day either way. :)

hey lovely!! this is such an interesting question omg. i don't mind at all!!

i do have some thoughts based on my own personal experience (i, in true citrine fashion, went full babble mode on this so that'll be under the cut!) but i think the tl;dr of it is have fun and be willing to experiment. (also if any of you lovely folks reading along at home want to drop your two cents in the replies or otherwise add to the conversation please feel free! i can only offer my perspective and i love hearing others)

if you have any follow up questions or want more specific advice, feel free to shoot me a dm! i don't bite, i promise.

okay. hi.

first thing's first: starting an x readers blog!

right off the bat, my absolute most important advice is this: be gentle with yourself. you're trying something new. even if you've been writing your whole life and been on tumblr since it was founded, this is a new way to combine those things. new adventures have bumps and blocks and you'll have trial and error before you really find your way (and likely after you find your way, too!) and that is fine. take your time, try to enjoy the process, and be kind to yourself.

for me, a lot of finding my way- and i mean A Lot- was just looking at other imagines blogs and asking myself what i liked about them. for example, for me, i get inspired by angelz-dust's incredible dialogue and use of details in her writing, beautiful desktop theme, a super user friendly masterlist, and clear and concise rules page. i also love unmotivatedwrit3r's intro post with both masterlist and rules, grounded stories, and that their blog is super easy to navigate. (i could go on and on, but my point is, look at your favorite writers. why does their writing appeal to you? why does their blog appeal to you? how can you incorporate parts of how they run their blog into how you run yours (obviously without stealing other people's work, haha.))

shaping your blog takes time, but can be a really fun process if you let it!

some of the things i find most useful for my blog are a good desktop theme, a useful pinned post, a masterlist, a mobile masterlist, and a tagging system i'm very comfortable with.

(idk how tumblr savvy you are, anon, so if you would like advice on any of those things specifically please let me know!)

technical tidbits

something i've found super helpful as both a writer and a reader of imagines is when a fic has an intro. as an example, i'll use my fic cat. the section at the top tells the reader what they're getting into; in my case, i like to list any qualities i've written the reader with (in this case, the reader is not referred to by gender!) so the person reading knows if it's something they can relate to (or, if not, if it's something they're interested in anyway). i also include what character i'm writing about, how long the piece is, any fun facts or relevant information i think the audience should know (like thanking my darling angel for being my beta reader/enabler/cheerleader), and also any content warnings i think apply. in this case, i also linked the next chapter of the fic.

if the post is long, throw a read more/cut on there! (i do this for posts that are longer than 1000 words, but you can use any measurement.) it makes navigating your blog (and any tags you post in!) muchhhhh easier.

back up your work. no, seriously, save often, and save your fics in a secondary location. i use google docs, but you could use word, a private discord server, your notes app- just make sure to save it! and just a heads' up, tumblr drafts can be a bit of a gamble. i've had posts post themselves prematurely, posts disappear entirely, and formatting glitch. (also? be prepared to reformat your posts.)

(i also save drafts i hate or can't get to work. sometimes i find a way to recycle them later on!)

don't be afraid to use tags, but try to stick to relevant ones. tagging your fics with unrelated characters or fandoms is unlikely to get your work any extra attention- and if it does, it's not likely to be good. i use several different imagines tags (because people call imagines lots of different things- [character] imagine, [character] x reader, [character] x you, and [character] x y/n are my go to tags.).

i also find it really helpful to use consistent content warning tags (such as "fire cw" or "blood cw").

self reblogs are a great thing. i have a queue i maintain almost religiously, so i queue mine, but you don't have to! but don't be afraid to reblog your work. people follow you to read what you post, and they may not see it the first time around! (i usually post at night, reblog the following morning, and once again the following night.)

accepting requests.

disclaimer: requests aren't my main source of inspiration. i write from movies, music, things i see irl, my literal dreams- i say this because i've seen a lot of writers get discouraged by a lack of requests (especially early on) or frustrated because they can't complete requests as quickly as they'd like. i think it can be really refreshing to take a break from them occasionally and write from another source of inspiration, if you can.

that being said! to answer your actual question, the biggest suggestion i have is to set basic rules. if you are asking for requests, what are you willing to write? what's a hard no?

it's okay if those things take time to figure out- or if they change with time! but having some basics down can be a huge help for requesters.

also! you're more likely to get requests if you allow anonymous asks. (this was, last i checked, not allowed by default. i would recommend switching them on in your tumblr settings if you would like to take requests.)

i really hope some of this helps- and again, if you have any questions or would like any other input, please feel free to send another ask or dm me <3

#citrine responds #oh anon #you got a novel #i tried to make this as digestible as possible but i have soooo much that i've learned with this blog #and from watching far more competent experienced writers run theirs #i hope this isnt overwhelming 😭 #also!! when you start your blog 👉👈 if you feel comfortable sharing please lemme know! i'd love to see :) #i am... gonna go to bed now. its midterms season and it is very late and i am very tired. #MWAH #mailbox #anon

[kpoptrashlord-007]

Hey! In here when you said that the links would be broken does that mean that it won't work in my navigation post aswell. Or it would be broken just in description?

Sorry I'm new here and saw your post

Heyooo ♡ welcome, it's always so great to have new peeps on the site! I hope you're enjoying it ^^/

So it's specifically for the description because the app editor sucks. It doesn't let you add links easily through it, but it also eats your html code lol. And you'll know when it's broken because the highlighted link disappears. Sometimes it doesn't break but sometimes it does?

We have a working link:

We edit the description:

We watch as the link breaks:

I don't know why the links break sometimes but it's best to be prepared for it to happen just in case. Some phones have the ability to lock messages to the clipboard (for easier c/p) so you can save it (the html link) on there if you plan to edit your description a lot.

Now, onto the main part of your question;;;

The only time I've noticed links break in a masterlist or navigation posts is when the person changes their blog URL.

Most people don't use the html editor (I had to change my default recently to rich text editor but I think most people have it set to that one when they make an account), so you won't need to worry about your navi links breaking unless you change URLs.

You also don't need to use html in your posts because the rich text editor Tumblr uses is easier to use than formatting whole posts yourself. As someone who is very lazy, I never use the html editor anymore. If you do, you won't be able to edit your posts easily on mobile. I have some old posts that are cursed now because of it and I can't even open them to update the tags without the whole post going kablooey. In fact, I think my masterlist is broken rn on desktop. Lol.

The rich text editor is, in my personal experience, the best way to go. For example:

We highlight the text we want to turn into a link then click the little icon that is like two circles / links interlacing.

Then we paste our link in and click add link.

And boom, done. Link is good to go. Works the exact same way on desktop, too!

Long story short 😅 it won't break your navi link, only description, but I'd personally use the in-built tumblr editor rather than the HTML editor when making posts.

Hope this helped and good luck with your acct!! 🤗💕

If you need help with anything else, feel free to ask! I've been on Tumblr for awhile (😭) so if I can share any wisdom, I'm more than happy to. Lol.

#anon~ #hope this helps #blog links #how to add a link #description links #navigation links #editing posts

[floufli]

Admit It

Chapter 3: Abduction (4.5k)

Summary:

Before the whole "multiverse collapsing" thing, everything was going pretty smoothly for you. As Spider-woman, you saved people, beat up villains and lived an calm and uneventful civilian life. But everything seemed to have changed the moment one boy was bitten by some radioactive spider. Now, the villains you faced have become more active, and always seemed to disappear before you could deliver them to the police. One day, you manage to finally catch the trail of the ones that kept stealing your catches, only to be left to discover another facet of your life waiting for you.

Will this end well for you? You could only hope so. But you are perfectly okay with risking it all, after all, that "Miguel" got one hell of an ass to make up for it.

Tags:

Miguel o'hara x fem!reader, violence, mature language and reference, Reader has the same arms thingies as Miguel, WILL BECOME MINOR NON FRIENDLY QUICK SO HOP HOP GET OUT OF HERE,trauma, rape mentioned, future tags,

MasterList

Chap: (1) (2)

Author notes:

Okay so first of all sorry for the loongggg ass pause, my brain just dropped the Miguel hyperfixation all of a sudden. And to add salt to the wound this has been ready for almost 2 weeks but the moment I said I was gonna post it my Internet said “haha no❤️”. So no Internet for me for at least a few months (;=;)👍.

Anyway hope you enjoy the chap if you’re still reading this, I was trying something but I cringed so hard I had to rewrite the chap a few times.

Don't copy to another site or I'm gonna be big mad >:C and don't feed to AI obviously

"Situation?" Miguel talked through his gobber, Jessica's hologram staring back at him. He didn't like the fact that he wasn't there when new recruits were brought in, but his duties as this dimension's Spider-Man had been left unattended for too long, and now it came back to bite him in his ass.

He was now heading to the HQ, swinging and climbing on the building while still remaining focused on the hologram of his subordinate.

"It went pretty well if you asked me." The woman said, her pose visibly relaxed." We did the usual explanation thingy just without you present but she assimilate everything pretty quickly I think. She didn't ask many questions either." She noted, at this point, she knew she was just telling him things without any real importance, as she knew he would verify himself everything that she said.

"Good." He responded coldly. that day of work had completely drained him, and he only wanted one thing: to take a shower and sleep until sunrise.

But he knew he couldn't, he just brought those fucking villains to the police and still had a lot of work left at the HQ, he didn't even know if he would be able to leave for the night.

"And you Miguel, everything's alright? You said you would be out for a few hours but half a day isn't typically your definition of 'a few hours'?" Her question was legitimate, he almost never left for this amount of time without saying explicitly for how many hours or days he would be gone. But this time he had gotten surprised by the amount of work he had to do in the city in order to keep everything going.

"Everything's okay Jessica, you can go back now, I'll handle the rest." He said looking away from her as he stepped inside the HQ's building. He stepped inside the main hall at ease, it was like his second home after all the time he had spent here. As he made his way toward the main elevator, he noticed the lack of the usual buzz signaling him the end of the discussion. He pulled his fist back up and unsurprisingly was met by Jessica’s silent stare, looking at him like a disappointed mother.

“Do you have something more to add Jess?” He asked unbothered by her attitude, she would sometimes act like this on purpose, keeping what she had in mind to herself and making him near beg to get some info about what was bugging her.

.

.

.

"Take a break, Miguel, you know you need to. You're gonna go far if you continue like that. We can't lose you."

And just like that, the call ended, with him still staring blankly at his wrist while he ascended to the higher floors. A frown slowly took over his features as his arms came back to his side. A break? It's not like he purposefully avoided any kind of breaks he just simply have the time to. Taking a break for him wasn't like any other Spider taking one, no, he had the responsibility of both his dimension and the multiverse along with the lives of thousands of Spiders.

He would take a break when his own responsibilities would allow him to.

Letting out yet another heavy breath, he quickly made his way out of the elevator as it finally reached its designed floor. Knowing the entire layout of the building like the back of his own hand, he made his way quickly across the Spiders still present, even considering the darkness started to grow outside. Multiple dimensions automatically meant various time-zone for each, given the exact same place it could be just the morning in one while late afternoon in the other. This caused the building to almost never be left empty, which helped any concern about the security of said building if he was absent.

He was now only a few minutes away from his 'office' if he could call it so since it didn't bear the traditional aspect of one. His mind was still full of today's work he would have to spend the night to finish due to his incapacity to catch some low-cost thugs quickly. He walked by Margo's desk, greeting her briefly as he could easily see she was already occupied doing multiple things at once in this dimension as well as her own, like always.

He ignored the nasty looks he got from the prisoners in their narrow cells, sigh remaining focused ahead as he walked. The image of his ‘work home’ grew larger in the distance and with it the until-then-postponed stress that always made its way to him, no matter how often he repeated the same things over and over.

Except this time was a bit different, as he walked into the comfortably lit place just enough for others to see easily but dark enough not to damage his retinas, soft led allowing a light glow into the space, he felt something odd. His eye focused on every item in sight, trying to find something to explain the weird feeling that came over him.

Even after letting his gaze wander around for a few seconds, he hadn’t spotted anything out of the ordinary. Deciding to brush off the feeling, thinking it was once again caused by his lack of recent sleep, he took a deep breath and tried to compose himself before going to work.

Except this seemed to have the completely opposite effect on him. Instead of cooling himself down in the familiar scent of his place, he was met by an even if weak, sweet scent that short-circuited his line of thought. His breath hitched at the fragrance, unused to such a scent entering his system by now. He couldn’t put a finger on a word to define it, it wasn’t like anything he had ever encountered before. No, this seemed sweetly addictive, just powerful enough despite its obvious fading.Leaving him craving for more.

Too caught up in the sudden smell, trying to process it while discovering its source, he missed the way his own breathing slowly became heavy, panting being the now proper term to describe his current self. If he could see himself in a mirror he would probably be embarrassed by the state he was in, mouth slightly open as if to actually taste the air he was surrounded by, pupils dilated, totally engulfing the natural red tint of his irises. He could even feel his fangs starting to grow, their tips gently tickling his lips.

His back was tense, as the rest of his frozen body, seemingly lost deeply into the fragrance, enough that he simply stop walking and stop in the middle of his office, breathing deeply.

"MIGGY YOU'RE BACKKKKKKK~~~!!!" His AI assistant suddenly yelled into his face, merely inches away. He jumped at the way he was abruptly forced to come back to reality. Eyes quickly blinking at the bright face in front of his own, he tried to calm himself and remain composed. What had happened to him to have this kind of reaction? He didn't know but he was mostly sure it wasn't something a night of sleep couldn't cure. Too bad he would most likely not get any sleep today.

"Hi, Layla." He replied with a sharpness to his voice as he slid his hand over his face, to both wake himself up and try to get the scent off of him. It helped, at least for now, and he quickly focused his attention back on his assistant.

"So, how was today?" He asked with uninterested eyes, already used to the boring reports he was met with every day now.

"Oh, you know the usual, a few anomalies here and there, today has been quite a furnish day." He only groaned in acknowledgment while he made his way to his station, his eyes already searching through the holograms depicted to find any important information.

"And the new recruit, you know the one from that dimension? Yeah well, she came with Gwen and Jess like you said, and my my~~~" He brought his eyes back to her blinking form just to hear about that new member of their society, but almost regretted it immediately judging by the eyes she was giving him.

"What?" He said unamused, his body still facing the holograms whilst only his head faced her, eyebrows raised in confusion.His arms fell back onto his sides as he glared at her. He could feel the amusement practically oozing from her form.

"Well, you could have told me she was basically the opposed gender version of you Miggy~~" She teased, and his eyes almost rolled back into his head at her absurdness.

"She got the fangs and everything~" She flickered to his right. " A perfect carbon copy."

He almost wanted to rip that grin from her face, but he couldn't. He should've made her a solid form for this kind of occasion.

"Your point?" He said, gaze going back to the displays. it seemed this conversation was already doomed before it even started. She must have had a stupid idea and convinced her that teasing him about it for who knows how much longer would make her day. The headache that left him just moments prior seemed to come back full force at her nonsense.

"My point..." She waited for him to look at her once more, but when he simply ignored her, she chose to continue her plan.

" Is that she would be a perfect match.<3"

His entire frame looked rock solid from the moment the words escaped her, tension rising immediately around the two. She could see the way he tried to maintain his claw and fangs retracted while attempting to calm himself down. Just enough to shut her down she was sure.

Too soon it seems…

When their eyes met again, her brown eyes faced the dangerous tint of blood-red iris, if she could shudder she most likely would have. But since she couldn’t she just floated there, smiling kindly at her boss, as if she didn't just sign her death warrant. The only noise around was the snaping of the railing that bore the display's projectors, causing them to flicker for an instant. With a quick glance she saw her boss’s hand almost ripping the whole thing off while he tried to stay calm.

"You should get out before I lose my temper, Lyla." He warned, his fangs shining brightly into the dim lighting, furthering his intimidating tone.

But she knew he couldn't do anything to her, even in those kinds of moments when his DNA seemed to take over him.

So she held his glare for a few more seconds before backing down, as if nothing had happened. Closing her eyes, she flickered away to give him time to calm himself before coming back to the real subject of today.

"She seems strong enough to enter the rank if you asked me, as well as both Jess and Gwen, without her it would've been way messier to bring those anomalies back to where they belonged after all." The sound of slowly calming breathing was the only thing she was met by.

"Like you asked she got her Gizmo and went through 'the explaining thing'" She paused for a moment before murmuring to herself in a fond voice. " I almost thought she was going to bawl her eyes out in front of everybody when she learned what happened."

His back tensed again, okay maybe that wasn't the best thing to say.

"Anyhow, she took it all like a champ and went back to her dimension. We told her to keep the Gizmo on at all times and that we will contact her soon enough." She finished going back next to Miguel when she noticed his lack of agitation.

"But you must already know all that from Jess so I'm just repeating."

She acted like she was looking at her nails while she subtly eyed the screen he was facing, even if she already knew what he was gazing so fondly at. It was the only thing that seemed to effectively calm him down after all.

His lack of response was enough for her to know what to do next. She had tried her luck enough for the day, retreating now was the best decision to make for both their sake.

"I'm just gonna head out if you don't need me~~," She said as she quickly flickered off, leaving him with the all too well-known images of that young girl.

It was now well into the night, but that didn't prevent the IA assistant from suddenly appearing before the frame of her boss, deep into a soudless slumber. Her holograms hovered silently over the body of her creator, a neutral expression painted on her two-dimensional face, unlike her usual cheerful smile despite some serious situations.

Her eyes landed on the tired bags below his own, the traces of stress and worry still very much visible on his sleeping complexion. It was easy to spot the tension on his jaw as he clenched it tight, still unable to fully relax even in his sleep. His brows formed a small frow that she almost thought to be cute before remembering what the man was surely going through right now.

Bad dreams for him since that event had become normality, a simple fact that would happen no matter what he tried to get rid of them, and as his digital assistant, there wasn't so much she could do to help besides advising him. Which he most of the time chose to ignore, deciding to once again overload himself with work.

She closed all the tabs currently opened with a swing of her hand, after making sure that the work had been correctly saved. He would kill her if she mistakenly deleted his night's worth of work.

The place was now much darker, except for the background neon and its soft glow.

Looking back at him, she almost regretted not having a physical body, as she wasn't able to so much as put a blanket to keep him warm in this cold-ass room. Quickly dismissing the silly thought, she turned away from him to let him rest. He will definitely scold her after realizing she let him sleep through work but she knew he would nonetheless appreciate the sleep.

As she traveled into the building network to find tasks yet to be completed by other Spiders, she thought back to the woman they had just welcomed into their rank and her boss.

He can say everything he wants but from what I saw when they both entered this room they did seem ready to fuck each other on the spot if they could've. I wonder if it's because of both their modified genes, no other Spiders reacted this strongly to the scent of strangers... They usually do that with a partner...

How much effort would it take to make them fall for each other? I will talk to Jess and Peter when they come back. Hihi~~ They will be as exacted as me on this I'm sure~~

You tried to break free, you really did, but your strength seemed comparable to an ant fighting against a bear against the grip the tall man had on your forearm. Water quickly gathered in your eyes, stinging and making you go slowly blind as your whole body attempted to break free from the deadly hold.

"LET ME GO!!" You yelled from just above the ground, feet scrapping the floor in an attempt to slow your progress down. The sound of the heavy steps of the man, your first sobs, and your worn shoes dragging along the floor echoed dreadfully in your ears. You had tried to bite, scratch, punch your way out but nothing had worked. The arm that had you trapped was now bloody and bruised and despite that, the man didn't seem to mind in the slightest. Determined to bring you to wherever you were both indubitably heading, against your best efforts.

The world around you was small as you walked through seemingly never-ending corridors, only lit by blinking and old light every few meters. The humidity of the alley left no doubts in your mind that this place had been abandoned for years now and nobody would find you if something were to happen today.

"Just let me.." You struggled with all the strength you had left against his grip, making your entire frame shake for the desperate movements. "let ME GO- I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!DAMNIT!"

Your free hand desperately punched and tried to free your other from him, but to no avail, and you almost went completely numb as the situation finally downed onto you. You gasped as you tries to get free slowly came to a halt, your body stopping completely, as your eyes grew wide and you stumbled on your feet, still being carried away.

You had no way out, you could do anything to make as much as make him look your way went your tried to break free. You were like a child being forced to follow their parent along a predestined path, unable to break the hold despite your many tries. Only following blindly like a boneless doll.

A new emotion took over your mind immediately after the realization- numbness. Acceptation. You wouldn't get out of here, so why bother struggling anyway? Whatever you would try or not, you didn't compete with the pure mass of muscles the man holding you was…if you were lucky he was just going to kill you.

Your body fell down, unable to stand without the will on your part. If it wasn't for your arms still firmly held, you would have fallen face-first into the dirty concrete floor. Your knees hurt as you were dragged along the never-ending path by the man. You could hear the fabrics of your pant slowing giving away because of the never stopping scrapping. But you couldn't bring yourself to care enough. Why would you care about some pants? Knowing your luck they would most likely be torn off in no time the moment you would reach your destination.

Your other, free hand twitched as it was too dragged along the rhythmic steps of the man, but you could gather the strength to keep it off the floor. Even as you felt your irritated skin starting to break away because of the dragging, your mind didn't let you feel the sting of pain that should follow. Blocking every reason that would pull you out of your protective trance.

.

.

.

"Ahh finally~~ I thought you got lost in the tunnels~~ Did you bring the one I specifically asked for??" A feminine voice squealed as your body entered a brightly lit room. With eyes still looking blankly at the floor, your face didn't show the slightest discomfort at the sudden change of lightning, completely disconnected from you.

The man didn't respond to what should certainly be a woman, and for a fraction of a second, you were grateful, at least that reduced the chance of being raped.

Keyword: reduced.

Your body was suddenly lifted up, dangling lifelessly a few centimeters from the ground thanks to the stature of the man. Your mouth only let out a small whine at the harshness of the movement, leaving a distant burn engraved into your wrist.

Your head was low, facing away from each individual, trying desperately to escape the situation, and if not physically at least psychologically.

But your 'peace' was quickly interrupted as you felt the disgustingly dry pulp of fingers gripping firmly your chin, forcing a wave of repulsion to go across your entire body. Making you shiver in the slightest.

Your head was yanked up without as difficulty as you thought there would be, for you thought you had put quite a resistance. But once more your strength seemed like one of a mere infant compared to those two. Unable to do much more than cry for mercy or put up the most inefficient of fights.

You hated the feeling of those fingers squishing so hard on your cheeks, along with the constant, now more persistent burn in your hand, reminding you of your current posture.

"Look at this Beauty~~~," The woman said in pure delight, and despite your instincts screaming you not to, you could stop your heavy-lidded eyes as they slowly rose up to meet the ones of that woman.

A sensation of dread fill you near the spot as your eyes met those wicked ones. Even in your state, your mind could still recognize danger when it saw it, and the mere eye contact between the two of you was enough for your brain to function, even if for just a moment.

Full of adrenaline, you tried once more to free yourself. But this time not from the man, no, he was a mere threat in comparison to what that woman was. He only seemed to obey her orders, didn't look like he was doing that for his own wicked nature but for some other surely more important reason.

But that woman, from the simple look you got of that slight glint in her eyes, the most unperceivable grin upward as she finally got to land her eyes on her next captives... Who were you fooling? Captive? No, against this woman you bore no such title, it would imply that you were captured and had some chance to actually escape your current situation, alive or not.

But in those eyes, you saw exactly what you were considered to be for her- a mere object here to satisfy her curiosity, her appetite for whatever sickened things and experiences she had planned to make you go through.

You were not even human to her, not a person, not a being. You were nothing more than a clump of cells that happened to be sentient and from her own specie that she would gladly take pride in exploring each and every facet.

You were just like a fly already caught in the spider webs, slowly being enveloped in silk before being put away to be eaten later on. You were nothing more than a prey she would relish in devouring.

And your struggle against her grip, even with just one arm intensified, along with your uneven cries and whines for help, while you could see her pleased composure growing more savage and wicked with each one of your calls.

"She will be perfect! Perfect as one could ever be!" The woman almost spits in your face in a newfound excitement, pushing your face away and instead turning back to something you didn't try to see previously.

In front of you were spread hundred of laboratory materials, enough to humble any common laboratory you could think of, the shining glassware and technology contrasting heavily with their decrepit surroundings. And only now did you take in the way the woman dressed, all in white, a lab blouse, protective glasses, gloves everything a real scientist would need.

But you didn't need to be a genius to know that whatever that woman was, a scientist would never be the proper term to define it.

"Now can you bring her to the table? Strap her really tight unlike the last one." She said as she walked a few meters away to grab you know what from a pile undisguisable from any other, all the while you were dragged once more and roughly locked into some kind of retraining table.

"Do you know how much products I spent on that last girl only for her restraints to go loose at the most crucial point??? That solution took me months to make, and she pushed it off the table as she ran away! Completely ruined!"

"Not like she went very far.." You could hear the man mumble as he fastened the last of your restraints before putting some space between you and him.

"Any way you can go now, your payment is in the wallet next to the backdoor, with a little present from my part for all your hard work~~" She pressed him out, that grin never leaving her lips, widening as the sound of steps fading always let you know you were now both alone.

"Now dear, I'm sorry but we'll have to skip the presentation and head straight for the funny part! I know it's not your fault that you don't want to be here and all the usual bullshit but I got things to do right? And you wouldn't mind helping me out a bit wouldn't you?"

She slowly approached your table, and only the vague sound of metal echoing through your ears let you know you were actually trying to get away from her.

"Now, that isn't very polite of you. But don't worry, you'll get used to everything after a few months or so."

"But firstly got a tiny little question to ask you. Be happy, you'll get to know a little more about why you're here! Isn't it exciting?"

She paused, her back facing you as she grabbed something from behind a row of beaker and other utensils. Before her wicked eyes turned slowly back to you.

"You like spiders, don't you?"

.. What?

A pause. That's it, by now you were sure this woman had definitely lost it long ago.But the revelation didn't bring any peace to your mind, still very much in distress form her very presence.

"If you don't, worry not . I'm sure you'll like them as much as I do by the time I'm finished with you." She was now stepping away towards yet another door leading to who-knows where, a few metallic noises echoing through the silence before she reappeared, now armed with a slim but sturdy want that she quickly put on a trail not to far from where you laid.

"But first I'll need to get you all prepped up for the big deal."

Your eyes grew wide once more, your entire body jerking against the restrains. The dryness of your throat now preventing you from begging for mercy.

Her eyes, those wicked orbs that had left you free from their grip were now back on you. But now filled with a madness you only hoped to be your imagination.

In her hand was a small filled with a transparent liquid serynge, wich dripped a few drops as she made sure all the airways out.

Gulping hard, you could only stare,silent despite your screaming mind , as the first of many syringes pierced through your skin and allowed an unknown liquid to course throw your veins. Paralyzed, the only sign of your tourment was the tears that's pearled down your cheeks.

.

.

.

From then on, all you could remember was pain.

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added/deleted):

@stany0url0calwh0res111 @mira-dystopiancore @smotheredinlighterfluid @vvitcxen @st4rrlighttt @mstozierr @maxi-ride @miguelsmainb @autismsupermusicalassassin @bluevenus19 @jenniferdixon05207 @candlewitch-cryptic @ahoeformyself @rxionv

#fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #into the spider verse #miguel x you #across the spiderverse #reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #x reader #x you #you #x fem!reader #fem!reader #beyond the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o’hara x you #female reader #chapter update #atsv #miguel x fem!reader #spiderman #spiderwoman reader #gwen stacy #jessica drew #fanfiction #fanfic update

[drarryruinedme7]

Heyyy, can you recommend me some underrated heavy angst drarry fic please, thank you!!

Hi, nonnie! Sorry it took me so long to reply :) I tried not to mention well-known fics on this list as your request is for "underrated" which I believe is a bit of a subjective discernment. To choose the fics, I went with titles I've rarely seen recced in the fandom. That said, these are some of my favourites fics! Hope you enjoy and mind the tags.

Crucio by @rockmarina (T; 3.3k; 2019) *hurt/comfort

Summary: "It is our choices that show what we truly are." But what about those who don't really have a choice? This is how their journey together starts: with an Unforgivable, a confession and the incessant dripping of a faucet.

Alive by @fleetofshippyships-archive (M; 4.4k; 2017)

Summary: After the war, Harry is lost. Angry or numb, nothing feels the same. The only thing unchanged is the way Malfoy makes him feel, until that too is no longer the same.

Blood and Sugar by phrynne (E; 7.4k; 2017)

Summary: I wonder again if this, his touch, is the reason I keep taking hits on the field and not giving a flying fuck what happens to me.

Half Awake, Half Asleep by NoclueIdunno (M; 19.4k; 2020)

Summary: Twelve years after the War, on his final trip outside, Draco stumbles upon the last person he wanted to see.

Thunder by @keyflight790 (E; 21.5k; 2019)

Summary: The storm will disappear; the rain will subside; but what's left in its wake will last forever. A story of love and loss, redemption and thunder.

remember me by hupsoonheng (T; 31k; 2019) *memory loss

Summary: On a chilly day in October, Draco kisses Harry goodbye before he goes on yet another dangerous, undercover mission with the Aurors. And then Harry doesn't come back. Only Draco believes that Harry isn't dead, and pours himself into finding his husband despite his friends' pleas to move on and grieve properly. What he finds at the end of that work, though, is not at all what he wanted.

The Shadowy Corners by @kedavranox (E; 29.2k; 2013) *mpreg

Summary: Fifteen years after the war, Draco is still struggling to survive. Living in squalor and under heavy Ministry restrictions, Draco takes Pansy's advice on an option he had never thought to consider before. A means to regain everything he lost and more, courtesy of the wizarding hero --Harry Potter.

Everything That Happens is From Now On by @thusspoketrish

(E; 42.9k) 2018) *rape

Summary: After surviving a brutal assault, Draco tries to navigate the tumultuous waters of his mind, and embrace a bit of love and trust in his life. After all, the smallest steps forward can begin to heal the most fractured of souls.

Now My Neck Is Open Wide (begging for a fist around it) by LadySlytherin (E; 75k; 2016) *mpreg

Summary: Six months post-war, Harry meets Grayson Wenke, a famous Quidditch player. Harry believes he's found the love of his life, and a Happily Ever After ending suitable for the storybooks. When Grayson slowly goes from Prince Charming to a monster behind closed doors, Harry finds himself trapped, and alone, and fearing for his life. When Harry realizes he's pregnant, the opportunity for escape - and a real Happily Ever After - presents itself as none other than Draco Malfoy. The only question is if Harry is brave enough to take a chance, and strong enough to heal.

Though My Mind Could Think (I still was a mad man) by @cassiaratheslytherpuff (E; 87k; 2019)

Summary: After years of pretending he's fine and just waiting for the day he isn't needed anymore Harry wins the war. He tries to kill himself, but of all people, Malfoy saves him. Harry realises that if he has the courage to die, he should also have the courage to live. Ultimately this is a story about recovery, but it's also about all the things you sometimes have to go through to get there.

Tit for Tat by @mintamintathings (E; 388.8k; 2021)

Summary: Our story picks up five years post-war. Harry's ready to come out and leave the public life behind; Draco's looking for quiet reintegration into magical society in London. True angst! Emotional vulnerability! Romance of the star-crossed lover variety! If you're looking for a plot-driven epic with all the smut and all the feels, here it is, folks.

#drarry #drarry squad #drarry fanfics #drarry fanfictions #heavy angst #angst #hurt/comfort #draco x harry #draco malfoy #harry potter #mpreg #drarry fics #drarry recs #drarry rec fic #drarry rec list #underrated fics #check the tags before reading

[sensitively-taken]

iii. blushed cheeks & burned hearts — choi beomgyu

synopsis. finally, you were starting to understand the mistakes of your drunken youth. drunk on love? lies? hope? you weren’t too sure what your vice was, but you were sure it’d left you with a burned heart. a burned heart, which a boy with blushed cheeks and sweaty hands was too eager to fix.

pairing(s). choi beomgyu x gender-neutral!reader ft. (mentions of) soobin x reader & yeonjun x reader.

genre(s). angst, coming-of-age, drama, highschool au.

warnings. alcohol consumption, rebounding, partying, underage drinking. rated PG 15.

word count. 2.5k (2527)

taglist. @yeonyeonyeonjun if you’d like to be tagged in each part when i post them, feel free to send me an ask or dm me!!

listen to! run, JOJI ⭑ urs, NIKI ⭑ save room for us, tinashe ⭑ fever, dua lipa ft angèle ⭑ roller coaster, CHUNGHA

notes. i can’t believe the last part of heartbreak haven is already here 😭😭 ty guys SMMMMM for all the love & support you’ve given the series 🤧🤧 i rlly appreciate it & i hope this last part ties things up neatly. enjoy 🥰🥰

Sometimes, you wished you’d never met Choi Beomgyu. (And, other times, you wished he had never met you.)

Like, right now, head slumped against the cash register as he went on and on about his favourite show.

“_____, are you even listening?” His voice was whiny—it always was—and you visibly cringed at the voice crack halfway through. A red tint lit up his cheeks, as he cleared his throat. “Never mind.”

As Beomgyu disappeared back into the kitchen, his break finally over, you spared the diner’s clock a glance. You’d been glancing at it for the past hour of your shift, ever since he’d failed to show up. He was never late—at least, not this late—so his absence caused your fingers to twitch and a crease to form between your eyebrows.

Where was he?

The bell rang, startling you out of your slouch. Putting the register in order, the greeting tumbled past your lips before you caught a glance of the newcomer. “Welcome to Blue Diner, where we serve everyone’s favourite Korean meals infused with an element of—“

“50’s American fast food dishes?” the person interrupted, drawing your eyes up to them.

A slow grin grew on your lips, while you rolled your eyes. “Fuck, Jun, you almost gave me a heart attack there. I was considering ditching the register to check if you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Yeonjun shrugged noncommittally, a ghost of a smile (the most he ever smiled) on his face. “Sorry to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but I’m alive.”

“Then, why didn’t you come earlier?” Purposely pouting, you let your voice get a little whiny—just like Beomgyu’s. “I had to listen to his ass babble on about another one of his stupid shows. When will he get it through his thick skull that I don’t want to talk to him?”

“Hey, _____,” he winced slightly, “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh? It’s not his fault your parents made you work here. The kid’s just probably excited to have a coworker his age.”

Yeonjun was right, he almost always was, but the reminder of the night your parents insisted you got a job was still too fresh. You could tell he knew as well from the apology spilling from his eyes.

Shaking your head, you muttered, “Let’s just… let’s not talk about that. How was your day?”

And, like there weren’t any delays or hitches, you and your best friend settled into your groove again. He made dry quips, you laughed so hard your sides hurt, and you could forget the fact that you were in a uniform you didn’t want to be in.

Meanwhile, Beomgyu stood by the kitchen door, your words replaying in his head.

“Are you and Choi Yeonjun dating?” was Beomgyu’s question that startled you on a cold, late night. It was minutes before your shift ended, the diner was empty, and you’d had a long day. The last things you were in the mood for were Beomgyu, his curious eyes, and his curious questions.

You were going to ignore him—roll your eyes and move on—but the mention of Yeonjun’s name made your stomach flip, but not in a good way. Immediately, your eyes drifted to your phone, hoping—praying, almost—that his name would illuminate the screen. But, no, there wasn’t anything there.

You hadn’t seen Yeonjun in three days now.

Exhaling deeply, you mumbled, “No. It’s not like that between us.”

“Really?” he sat in the chair across the counter, a rag in his hand in case your manager came out, “I was almost sure you were. There’s a certain chemistry between you that most friends don’t have… Y’know?”

“Maybe you just don’t have good friends,” you snapped. The remark stung, you could tell from the way Beomgyu smiled–so wide and so forced–and you buried your head in your hands. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

His smile grew, in size and sorrow. “No, it’s true. I don’t have many friends, in school and outside of it. The few friends I have… I feel like they have to be friends with me. Y’know? Or, maybe you don’t. You and Yeonjun are tight.”

“No,” you blurted out without thinking, only realising what you said as Beomgyu raised an eyebrow.

Biting your lip, you debated taking a break—to get away from Beomgyu, his prying questions, his prying eyes—but something within you was waiting for this moment. Waiting to pour past the dam that’d been constructed since Yeonjun had started avoiding you.

So, sighing deeply, the dam broke loose. “I don’t think Yeonjun cares about our friendship anymore.”

“What?” Beomgyu was loud, and his eyes held the same amount of incredulity you’d felt when you reached that conclusion. Resting his chin on his hands, he leaned in. “How’re you so sure about that?”

“Hm, I don’t know, maybe it’s him not texting me for three days straight, avoiding me when I try to talk to him, and even skipping classes so he doesn’t have to see me?” There was a noticeable strain in your voice, one that caused a frown on Beomgyu’s lips. Shrugging, you repeated, “Maybe. Just maybe.”

A heavy silence settled over the two of you, your confession weighing on your heart. It’d been one thing to think he was avoiding you, think he was going to extreme lengths just to make sure he didn’t have to see you. It was another to acknowledge that and verbalise it out loud. It almost confirmed your thought, even if you could only confirm it from Yeonjun himself. That thought, that crippling, scary thought that Yeonjun didn’t care about you anymore.

A lone tear slipped down your face—one you wiped away at quickly, yet Beomgyu still managed to see.

Placing a hand on yours, he muttered, “Does it burn? Your heart?”

“What?”

“Your heart burns, right?” He avoided your eyes, his voice wobbly and his hand on yours sweaty. “It’s not exactly like heartbreak, the type you feel when you break up with someone you love. It’s more like… your heart misses something, someone, so much that it aches… Do you get it?”

Slowly, you realised, as you became increasingly aware of the blood rushing in your ears, Beomgyu was right.

You hated that Beomgyu was right. You hated that your heart ached, pained, burned from the absence of one person. You hated that Yeonjun could do this to you—was doing it to you. You hated all of it.

Swallowing the ache, the pain, the burn, you glanced at your phone’s screen. Reading the 11:00 PM on the screen caused a spark to spring up in your chest, a thought forming. With one, final swallow, you clasped his hand back and smirked. “How do you feel about a walk home?”

As you watched a dark blush spread across his cheeks and felt his hand sweat even more, a sense of satisfaction and relief grew within you.

You were going to fan this spark, till you burned.

Beomgyu was no longer right.

Instead of the familiar, dull ache your heart nursed (barely nursed; the ache was festering into a wound but you kept the ugliness wrapped under gel and gauze), your heart was torn into pieces. The pieces were scattered all over the place, bloody and torn from the butterflies fighting to get through. With every empty inhale and exhale, you were sorely reminded the butterflies had won.

Beomgyu knew how to deal with a burned heart (didn’t just know how to deal with one—he was constantly nursing one of his own), but not a broken one.

He could mend—ever-so-slowly—the Yeonjun-shaped wound in your heart to take his shape and fit his ridges. He could soothe the ache on the days it was particularly bad, with his encouraging words and sweet smiles. He could even rip the bandaid off when needed, only to quiet down your cries with rubbing alcohol and patterned plasters.

But, picking up bloody, torn pieces was something he couldn’t do.

So, when you invited him to a house party, told him everything was fine, you were fine, and the party would be fine, he didn’t question anything. Instead, he spent hours picking out an outfit, lined his lips with extra chapstick (the sweet strawberry one you would end up kissing one too many times), and put the brightest smile on his face. The only worry he had, as he looked himself over one more time and ruffled his dark brown hair was, If we kiss, who will _____ imagine in my place? The blue boy, or the autumn breeze?

(It was him, Choi Beomgyu, you imagined but you never told him that.)

Like you’d told him, the party started off fine. He blushed when you two met up, stuttering through his compliment. You returned the sentiment, especially focusing on his pink lips and ruffled hair. It was hard to tell, under the flashing lights, but you were almost sure he’d gone red at that.

Then, things started to go awry. Alcohol was ingested, people were spotted, and suddenly Beomgyu’s comforting arm around your waist didn’t feel so comforting. Instead, you craved the cold—that light, crisp cold that came with autumn—and its bittersweet touch.

A smirk stretched your lips, one so empty and so cold, as you whispered in Beomgyu’s ear, “Wanna go off somewhere quiet?”

He paused. He knew what that meant. That your fingers would get tangled in his messy locks, your lips would move against each other, that—for a few moments—he would be more than the annoying coworker to you. And, while his heart ached less with the thought, he could feel a piece of the organ rip, barely managing to hold on to the rest of the mass.

Yet, licking his lips and wiping his sweaty hands, he mumbled a quiet, “Yes.”

And, you two were off, out into the cold where you felt the most at home.

Beomgyu paused when you sat down on a bare bench, closing your eyes against the wind whipping at your face. He didn’t know what to do, whether it would even be okay for him to sit on the other side of the bench while you communed with the cold. But, there was a growing itch to ask a question, one that he was practically pushing back from tumbling past his lips.

You peeked out through an eye, chuckling dryly at the sight of his wide ones. “Is something wrong? You wanna go back inside?”

“N-no, no!” He shook his head frantically, as a flush spread across his cheeks (from the cold or his usual embarrassment, you couldn’t tell. In the cold, it was always hard to tell.) “I just thought you wanted to come out here for something different. Like, maybe—”

“To make out?” There was an amused lilt in your voice, but your eyes were tired. (Beomgyu didn’t know which one was telling the truth.) “I’m not surprised you think that, after all I’ve told you. But… but no. ‘Just wanted to feel the last of the autumn breeze.”

Beomgyu sat down on the opposite side, trying not to break the silence with his little sniffles. But, he couldn’t help but blurt out, “Do you mean the actual autumn breeze, or... or Yeonjun?”

The silence resumed, only interrupted by the wind’s howls, while Beomgyu stared at you expectantly. Your eyes were closed, and your head was thrown back, like he hadn’t asked anything. But, from the twitch around your mouth to the obvious movement behind your eyelids, he could tell you were consumed by his question.

You almost always were (sometimes, you wished you weren’t).

Breaking the silence with a heavy sigh, you replied, “How would you feel if I said both? If I wanted to talk to Yeonjun again and say goodbye to autumn at the same time?”

“If you said both?” he repeated, staring at the side of your face, while you kept your eyes closed. “I’d tell you I can help you forget about the former.”

Your eyes flew open. “Help me?”

Beomgyu shifted forward, eyes flitting to the ground. “Yeah… I’m always here if you need me, _____.”

Slowly, you pieced his hints together—the chapstick, the ruffled hair, his sudden boldness. You shook your head. “I’m not using you as a rebound, Gyu. You’re more than that.”

“But isn’t that how we started off?” he challenged, raising an eyebrow. “You think I didn’t realise what you were doing? Replacing Yeonjun with me on your walks, _____?”

Guilt shined in your eyes, even as you shook your head again. “I… Yeah, I filled Yeonjun’s presence with yours. But, not to get over his absence—at least, not completely. I saw we were in the same boat, so I thought it’d be best if we stuck together. That’s not rebounding… right? It isn’t, right?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he shifted closer to you, turning his body to face yours. “Even if it is, I don’t care. You can use me as a rebound, as many times as you want.”

“No, _____,” you refused, but your voice was growing weaker and your eyes were flickering to his lips like they had at the beginning of the party. “I don’t want to hurt you. Not like… like he did to me.”

“But, are you really hurting me if I’m aware? Are you really hurting me if I want you to? If I don’t mind?”

The wind whistled a short answer, which was followed by a slow shake of your head.

Beomgyu smiled, a bittersweet sight. “Then?”

“Are you just saying this because you wanna kiss me?” you asked, laughing shortly after and dissipating all the tension that’d built up.

As you expected, his cheeks flushed deeply and he avoided your gaze, suddenly finding your shoes the most interesting thing on the patio.

Rolling your eyes and leaning forward, you whispered, “Then, why didn’t you just ask? Just tell me straight-up you want to kiss me, instead of bringing up all that rebound bullshit.”

“It’s that easy?” he asked, eyes widening. “I just had to tell you I want to kiss you? Really?”

“I mean, no? But, yes? For you, it’s easy. I trust you. I know you won’t misinterpret my feelings just because we kissed, and I know you won’t hurt me either. So, I don’t have to think much about it.”

(He wouldn’t hurt you, but how you were so sure you wouldn’t him?)

He leaned in, your breaths mingling with each other and scents mixing. Eyes focused on your eyes, your lips, your eyes, your—

“Well?” you mocked his tone from earlier, as you draped your arms around his neck. “Are you gonna kiss me, or should I kiss you?”

His beautiful blush spread across his cheeks again, eyes darting everywhere now. “Kiss me please.”

“Your wish is my command,” you quipped, smiling and closing the distance between you two.

And, while you two kissed, soft and slow—a question hanging over your heads of what would become of your relationship now—the reflection of Yeonjun in Beomgyu’s eyes didn’t leave your mind.

You didn’t think your burned, torn heart would be mended.

Ever.

i. autumn breeze | ii. butterflies

copyright 2022 soobisms, all rights reserved. no translations or reposts of any form allowed.

#beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu angst #ficscafe #beomgyu au #beomgyu drabbles #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x y/n #choi line #txt choi line #txt x reader #txt x you #txt x y/n #sensitively-taken works

[jangofctts]

Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit 

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?  

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish​ FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA 

It's curious. 

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is. 

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.  

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.        

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos. 

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.     

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought  it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.     

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.     

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

 And yes, you tried to slip by for this one. 

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.    

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye. 

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?" 

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but— 

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut. 

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit." 

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?" 

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information. 

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.” 

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.” 

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.” 

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting. 

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.” 

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height. 

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces. 

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed." 

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder. 

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well. 

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.  

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.  

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me." 

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts. 

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this? 

This is too good. 

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.  

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions." 

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…  

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.  

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that." 

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.  

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride. 

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest. 

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.   

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you." 

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.” 

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left. 

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.  

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet. 

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.  

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss. 

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this. 

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.   

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything. 

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.     

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin. 

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.      

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water. 

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this? 

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.   

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.  

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—” 

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name. 

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.” 

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it. 

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.” 

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones. 

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate. 

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part. 

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.   

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.” 

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.” 

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away. 

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit. 

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly— 

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands. 

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here. 

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.” 

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch. 

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him. 

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.” 

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages. 

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin. 

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you. 

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.   

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever. 

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?

#we out here #yeehaw #my writing #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #ct-7567 #captai rex #clone x reader #clone trooper x reader #the clone wars #tcw #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars #sw

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

killing peggy carter

summary: you want revenge bc steve’s a bitch. (happy times, save for steve’s disappearance. everyone’s alive tho)

warnings: a darker steve. rough smut, a little questionable at times. a lot of angst bc i was in a mood.

pairing: steve rogers x reader, peggy carter x reader for a sec, and some steve x peggy ( 🤢 )

word count: about 9,800

a/n: not tagging anyone bc no one asked for this, i literally just wrote it like forever ago and decided to post it bc i haven’t posted in forever. also, if you go back far enough on my blog, you will see that i watch riverdale and honestly, i came up with this title before jughead wrote his emo story in the finale.

When Steve left, it was nothing short of devastating.

Your world had stopped. How could it not? You had been under the impression that someone was in love with you as much as you were in love with them. And god, you were so damn in love with Steve Rogers.

It had been a year and it still hurt just like it had that first day. You were better at hiding it now, using that as the only entertainment in your life. Being an Avenger wasn’t the same as it used to be. The world was good, you weren’t needed. Especially not while all these feelings of anger and resentment were growing inside you.

When Steve left, he took a lot. He took your heart, your soul, your fucking will to love and let yourself be loved, and he took your ability to be a hero. No hero had the darkness you had. No hero stayed out most nights dancing in sweaty and noisy clubs, being groped by strangers she couldn’t even take home because she was the definition of damaged. You had trust issues for days, and they weren’t going anywhere any time soon, if ever.

Bucky tried to help and sometimes, you had the energy to fake it. It always made him so happy to see you smiling or just talking to other men who clearly were attracted to you. But nothing would come of it. You couldn’t believe a word that any one of them said.

Steve used to look at you, tell you he loved you, tell he needed you, that he couldn’t do any of this without you. Then he had the chance to go back to Peggy Carter and he took it in a second, no hesitation. He didn’t even say goodbye.

You stayed out on the lake for three months, figuring he’d just gotten tied up. He would come back, you told yourself that every night. What finally broke you was when Nat and Bucky sat you down and told you it wasn’t going to happen. You’d always known but with confirmation from the two people that knew him best, you had to face reality. He’d left you and he wasn’t coming back.

It was a huge hit to your self-esteem. Maybe if you had been prettier. Smarter. Stronger. Better. But you were just you. Petty, small, aching. Ironically, that was how he had found you as well. The Avengers liked to bring in team members who had already been through too much. You hadn’t realized how vulnerable your past trauma made you to their type of coercion. You would do anything any of them asked. With Steve, it was different. More. And he had always known.

There was this pain in your chest that never went away. Sometimes you woke up gasping in the middle of the night, usually after a nightmare. It was as if there had been a hand around your neck. But there wasn’t because you were as alone as anyone could possibly be.

You didn’t mind it anymore. Hell, it was the only thing that you still had left of Steve. You burned everything else and not even that made you feel better. This was all much to Bucky’s dismay.

You would never tell a soul that you couldn’t part with his sketchbooks, that you had them hidden in a box underneath your bed. It was no one’s right to know. This pain was your own, the only thing you still had possession of.

You hadn’t been touched in his absence, even by yourself. It reminded you of all those times he would kiss along your skin and sing praises to your beauty. Sometimes, you wished you were ugly. Sometimes, you wished you could just get so ugly that no one would even want to look at you.

But that was not the case. You were that beautiful, strong, and caring woman Steve had fallen in love with, so they claimed. You were their responsibility. Their project. They would get you through this if it was the last thing they did. Nat, Bucky, and Sam tried merely out of their loyalty to Steve. Tony followed that lead and that meant Peter tried as well as he could. Wanda, still consumed by her own lost love, attempted, but she was probably the only person who could see you for what you were.

Thrown out trash. Abandoned, sharp pieces that could and would cut anyone who tried to help. You hated all the rest of them for not seeing it. You hated all the rest of them because in their eyes, you were still Steve’s girl.

You no longer had a boyfriend, a family, or friends. He took all of that away from you. And one day, when you were so sick of having nothing to do but feel sorry for yourself, you decided that you were going to return that favor.

Steve Rogers deserved to be just as heartbroken and empty as you. It drove you crazy. He had been the one to pursue you. He had been the one to insist that you were his, even said you were the best thing to ever happen to him.

Talking Bruce into helping was laughably easy. You claimed to need closure. You claimed you just wanted to know that Steve was happy. You wanted to tell him you forgave him. Bruce hadn’t seen you look this happy in a long while so he did what anyone would and said yes.

You wanted to wait. Steve was always so sentimental, the anniversary of the day he met Peggy was probably a day of extreme affection in their house. He probably made her breakfast, bought her some piece of jewelry that she wouldn’t even like, and spent all day telling her how much he loved her. You wanted to crash the party.

Part of you wished there was another way to do this, but there just wasn’t. Killing Peggy was the only way to take anything from him, and you had these dark fantasies that he would then kill you in retaliation. What a beautiful way to go, you hoped he would strangle you. You hoped he would set you on his lap one final time, wrap his hands around your neck, and stare into your eyes until you were gone.

Peggy was a great person, that much you felt bad about. But hadn’t Steve practically murdered you? And you were a great person before all of this. An eye for an eye. Did he think you were just going to disappear? No, he wasn’t going to get away with this any longer. He wasn’t going to get his happiness after he had ruined your whole life.

You wanted some years on them, you told Bruce ten years. Steve would be just shy of 50. You wondered what he’d look like. When he left, he had just started to get some gray hairs. You could remember that morning vividly. You wouldn’t have noticed if the sun hadn’t been shining in through the blinds perfectly onto his blonde hair. He blushed about 7 shades of red, but you promised him you didn’t mind. Because you loved him. He said he loved you back. Like an idiot, you believed him.

You arrived in his time with little care to how you looked. You weren’t here for anyone but him. You didn’t mind that everyone was staring at you oddly because instead of some huge, ugly dress, you were wearing black pants, a low-cut t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

You did need a weapon, however. Guns were cowardly. Poison could be fun. A knife, though. A knife would certainly get the point across. You tucked it into your boot and then you were on your way.

You found Peggy’s house easily. Bruce had made sure you knew where you were going and what to do if they had moved or anything like that. You’d known they would be in the same place. You’d known Steve would want to live in this domestic, pathetic lie.

There was a window that looked into the living room. It was mid-day, you figured Peggy was at work. What did Steve even do? Was there a specific activity he liked pairing with all the pure nothingness he was doing while his best friend suffered in Hydra’s hands?

You saw him sitting in a recliner in what you assumed was the living room. His hair was almost all gray, he’d cut it much shorter. Like how he used to have it, before everything with Tony and Bucky. Like how he had it when you met him. His beard was just as light and he had a few prominent wrinkles on his forehead and around his mouth. But that was as far as his aging went. His arms were still huge, his shoulders so broad, and you had the strongest feeling that that ass had held up.

You were about to go in, make your presence known when you realized he was reading a book. Your favorite book. He must have taken it with him because that looked distinctly like one of your many copies you hadn’t seen for quite some time.

You were furious, shaking and seeing red. No matter how hard you tried to breathe, you just couldn’t. You were going to cut Peggy’s heart about and show it to him. You were going to cover that ugly house with her blood. You were going to wreck him just as much as he wrecked you.

You watched Steve for three months and came to the harrowing conclusion that he was severely unhappy. Peggy would come home and they wouldn’t speak. They would sit down for dinner and say maybe five sentences to one another. They went to bed together, sometimes they had sex. You never stuck around for that because not only was that a major violation of her privacy, but damn, they were fucking boring.

When she woke up in the morning, he wouldn’t get up until she was gone. Then he would go for his run, you followed a couple of times as best you could to see if there was a piece of this puzzle you were missing. When he returned home, he would read or watch television, he went for a second run a few hours later, and returned home to do absolutely nothing but await her return.

Should this have made you happy? It didn’t. He would rather be unhappy with her than happy with you. But that was for one reason: his pride. He didn’t want to crawl back to you and admit that he made a mistake.

Your goals changed. You wanted to make him admit it. Not with words, he would never do that. But Steve was a faithful man. If you got him to stray, it would be indisputable.

You waited one morning until he was out on his run, then snuck into the house. You went through their kitchen, sometimes you moved things just to be a bitch. You went through their bedroom and discovered that Peggy had a terrible contraption that had the audacity to call itself a sex toy. That would be nice to throw in Steve’s face.

You tossed it onto the bed and got undressed as you made your way to the shower. Steve wouldn’t be gone much longer. And he would know something was very wrong when he saw your clothes.

You washed your hair, used Peggy’s soap, and only had to wait a couple of minutes after that. You heard him call out her name a few times. But then he got to the bedroom and you heard his steps hesitating.

“Peggy?”

He wouldn’t say your name, not ever. Because he could be wrong, he could be delusional. And to admit that he was still thinking about you after all this time, that was his idea of a loss.

You didn’t grab a towel as you pulled the shower curtain back and shut off the water. Dripping wet, you carefully padded across the tile floor and then out to the bedroom.

His eyes widened and he dropped to his knees. “What...what are you doing here?”

You shrugged, glancing around. “Thought I deserved a vacation.”

“Y/N, I am so—”

“Pathetic? Weak? Yeah, don’t worry, I know.” You moved closer to him, eyeing him pitifully. You were glad that you hadn’t crumbled. Months ago, you would have given anything just to hear his voice, just to see his fucking eyes. God, you hated him now.

“You’re angry, I understand.”

“Angry?” you scoffed. “Add dumb to the list.”

“I’m sorry that I hurt you—”

“You didn’t hurt me, you piece of shit. You destroyed me, you ruined my life. For all intents and purposes, you killed me. And I’m here to get my revenge.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “Revenge?”

You reached out to touch his face, trailed your fingers along his bottom lip. “Yeah, payback. I’m going to make sure I make you feel what you made me feel.”

He glared up at you. “Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

He finally stood, towering over you.

“Mmm, how I’ve missed this body.” You pressed yourself against him and as much as he acted like he didn’t like it, he never pulled away or tried to push you back. You were getting him wet and his shirt was starting to cling to his abs. You let your hands wander for a moment before they dropped down to his pants.

“Stop,” he said quietly.

And you did because you were never going to allow him to lie. Your turned up to him and stepped back.

He looked torn apart, confused. “Why are you here?”

You shrugged. “Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Well, it’s all you’re getting. You don’t need any other answer.”

“So, what’s the plan? How are you going to get your revenge?”

“I know you, Steve, I know that you believe in being a good and faithful man. I just want you to fuck me. That’s all.”

“Well, you know that’s not going to happen. You know I would never—”

“Cheat? So, then you’ve never fucked Peggy?”

“What?”

“You never left me, you never told me we were done. You, like the coward you are, just didn’t come back. Every time you’ve been with her is a lie, a cheat. You are a cheater.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?! You keep acting like there was just one thing! There were a million things, Steve. You ruined everything that we were building. And you can apologize all you want, but until I return at least half of it, I’m stuck here with you.”

“I won’t fuck you.”

“Yet,” you pointed out. “Well, I should be going.”

He grabbed your arm. “Go home.”

“I am home, baby. You’re here and you’re my home.”

He frowned.

You yanked yourself out of his hold, bending over to grab your clothing all over the room. He wasn’t going to fuck you but that did not mean he wasn’t going to look at you. So, you gave him quite the show, just like you had in the past upon his request.

You disappeared into the bathroom as if it was so natural, as if it was your own. He made no moves to follow and said nothing. As you dried yourself off, you decided now was as good a time as any. “See that terrible thing on your bed?”

You heard him step a few times, then nothing.

You scoffed. “Maybe it has to do with your age.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Still. Pretty creepy you came back to a much younger Peggy.”

“I came back to the one I left.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” You sauntered out and sent him one last smile before exiting the bedroom.

Peggy and Steve had a fight, so Peggy ducked out to some small diner. If you couldn’t get to him, you decided you were going to get to her. Peggy was sweet from the second you began speaking to her, feigning concern for her situation.

The first night you guys went out together, you wanted her to talk shit about Steve. She didn’t, she just got drunk and tried to get you much the same. You were taking her home because you truly were fearful of what would become of her without your help. And she kissed you. At first, you were startled, you pulled away out of fear and shock. She wasn’t Steve. In all your life since you’d met him, you never thought someone else was going to kiss you.

But then she looked terrified. Had she been reading you wrong? Had she messed everything up? Nah, you were adaptable. You kissed her back, explained you’d been hurt by some loser and it had been a while. She understood, or said she did, and then she was disappearing inside.

You were left wondering if Steve heard you, but not many lights in the house were on. He probably wasn’t home. Confirmed by your unlocked hotel door when you returned home just a couple of hours before sunrise.

Knowing it was him didn’t mean you weren’t going to pull your gun as you entered. He was sitting in one of the chairs at the tiny table near the tiny kitchen.

He arched an eyebrow. “That necessary?”

“I should have shot you the second I got here.” But you still tossed it onto the bed. “You know...this paints quite a scene, doesn’t it? You’re here, angry at me for being out late.” You let your purse fall to the floor, then your hideous cardigan. You had only shown up with one outfit, so shopping was necessary to keep up appearances. You didn’t know a lot about the 40s, but you didn’t want them to start burning women at the stake again because of you.

You made your way to him, straddling his lap as you took his face in your hands. “Are you upset that I broke curfew, daddy?”

He didn’t even bat an eye, but you knew that would get to him. “Where were you?”

“Out with your future wife.” One of many kickers, they had yet to get married. Peggy said it was because she wanted to wait. “Thought she would be willing to talk shit about you...thought it would make me feel better.”

“And? Did she give you anything you can use against me in the future?”

“Nah. She didn’t want to talk about you at all.”

He glared. “When are you going home?”

She shrugged. “Whenever I feel like it.” Your eyes moved over his face as you felt the deeply etched lines on his skin. “You don’t look 50 but I never thought... You remember when I found your gray hair?”

“Yeah... Thought you would leave me...that you’d want someone your age.”

“I like you like this, you know. Twice my age.”

“Have there been others?”

And just like that, the end of your friendly conversation. You pulled your hands away from him but stayed on top of him. “Others?”

“People...men you’ve let close.”

You scoffed. “Why would I do that?”

“I wanted...I thought you would move on.”

“People lie,” you pointed out. “You told me you loved me every day and then you just left. I can’t adequately explain to you how tired I am. I can’t do it again, I can’t even let myself try. I can’t get close to people the way I was close to you. I can’t move on. I can’t love someone else. I can’t do anything but hate you as much as I loved you.”

“I wasn’t lying—”

“You left. If you loved me as much as you said you did, you wouldn’t have been able to.”

“I do love you—”

You immediately pulled off him, rushing to get your feet back on the floor. No, no fucking way, he was not going to lie to you again. He was simply not allowed to anymore. You would not tolerate it.

“Y/N—”

“Get out of my hotel!” You pointed to the door. “Now, Steve, or I swear I will shoot you.”

He scoffed. “For what? Loving you?”

“You piece of shit.” You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You stormed to the bathroom and locked the door before he could intrude yet again.

He knew you wouldn’t come back out, not while he was still there. All he could do was leave. For safe measure, he at least unloaded your gun and set it on the bedside table. Maybe if you had to find it and load again, you would lose some of your anger and not ended up taking a shot at him.

How dare he? He had no right to say that to you, no right to use that word. It meant nothing coming from him because there was the implied ‘but’ along with it. Before, he just loved you. Period. Now? He loved you. But what? He loved Peggy more? He loved this time more?

You thought you had been angry before. Even though the time you were spending with Peggy was diffusing that somewhat. Still, you never lost sight of what you wanted. Needed. The idea of Steve’s heartbreak was the only thing that could get you up in the morning.

He threw you off for a few days. Every time you tried to leave the hotel room just to do something a tad evil, you would end up in bed crying. Steve thankfully didn’t try to come back, you hated the thought of him seeing you like this, letting him know that he could still do this to you.

Peggy called. You gave her the number, just in case, and she used it to express her concern for you. It wasn’t like you not to want to hang out or to just be around and bump into her “randomly”. She invited you out for breakfast the first day, then lunch the next. You said you weren’t feeling well.

An excuse she stopped taking the third night. She wanted to go dancing with you, all while her asshole boyfriend stayed at home. How could you say no? You shouldn’t, this was the entire reason you were here.

You would kill her tonight. This time was a drag and you wanted to get home. To a place where you could wear pants or a t-shirt. A place where there weren’t so many preppy men in pastels or college sweaters.

Peggy picked you up, she wouldn’t stop staring. Had it been any other day, you might have even questioned why. But you weren’t going to enjoy this as much as you thought you would. It sucked, and honestly, it made you hate Steve even more. He was your downfall, he was also her downfall, but at least he would soon be utterly alone.

It had been hours. You were just trying to dance and let the music fill your mind, but this music was shit. If you had to hear one more man sing about wanting to hold a woman’s hand… Truly, you missed the filth of your time.

Peggy was the one that wanted to leave. Peggy was the one that wanted to walk away from all the noise of the city. Peggy was the one that took you to some sleazy motel, where she gave you the briefest of looks when she’d stopped you both on the sidewalk. She was also the one that kissed you when you didn’t say anything because what did you have to actually say?

Nothing. Not one thing. You had no idea how this plan had spiraled so terribly. You were meant to come here, kill her, throw it in Steve’s face, then bolt back home like none of it ever happened.

But you couldn’t kill her, not anymore, not after seeing what a miserable life she had with Steve. You hoped she would leave him, and not just to hurt him, but to help herself. You remembered the life she had in your world, the one she had created with your husband. It was so much better than the hell she was living in here.

So, you let her take you to a room. You let her kiss you, you let her tear your dress off, push you onto the bed, and crawl on top of you. Her lips moved everywhere over your legs, arms, and stomach, and they felt like fire because they belonged to someone who wasn’t Steve.

You hated how guilty you felt. You hated that your mind was seriously considering this a betrayal, cheating. But you were trying to be kinder to yourself. It wasn’t your fault that you had fallen so hard for someone and that you had made plans because someone had promised you forever.

She knew you were thinking about him. Not Steve, of course, but the someone you had once mentioned. She didn’t mind, she just promised she would try to make you forget. You forced yourself to be present, you turned off your mind when you could. She didn’t ask a lot of you, in reality.

She wanted to be on top, she wanted you to say her name and wouldn’t let you come until you asked nicely. It was probably around the third orgasm that you stopped feeling so awful, that all of those familiar sensations weren’t triggering memories and bitter resentment. That was what she gave you with her mouth alone and didn’t move until it was evident that your thoughts had simply melted away.

When she crawled back up to kiss you, she buried her fingers inside you. At that point, who the hell even was Steve Rogers? A distant, dull pain. Peggy was here, on top of you, biting your lip, telling you to come one more time, because she knew you had it in you.

She told you that you were beautiful, that she’d never seen a body like yours. She told you that you made her feel things Steve couldn’t, that you were fun and warm and kind, and she loved spending time with you.

You were covered in sweat, your skin painted with her lipstick and bites and other marks she left all over your skin. She hadn’t come yet and refused any offers you made her, she claimed she just wanted to focus on you for a moment.

When she finally pressed her soaking center against yours, you were in an odd amount of pain. You longed for something, so much, but you had no idea what. She pulled your hair, began kissing your neck, and rolled her hips hard. You pulled her hair back, pressed your hips up when she pressed down, whimpered her name, and told her she felt so good. It was when she started fucking you harder and faster, and you were getting really close once again, that you got the sick idea to rake your nails down her back. Hard enough to leave marks.

After her finish, she collapsed onto her side next to you. The way she looked at you was kind of scary, like you were worth a lot more than you knew you were. She also looked satisfied and you hadn’t seen that look since you’d shown up. And what a fucking crime that was. Yes, Steve was a dick, but fuck, that man could seriously fuck. Why was he denying her that?

You shoved her onto her back and sat on her face because you didn’t want to be thinking about him. She kept you there until you were shaking and so fuzzy you couldn’t even sit up on your own. A tad haphazardly, you insisted on getting your mouth on her. After some convincing on your part and a few pitying laughs from her as you nearly fell over the edge of the mattress because you were still dizzy, your tongue was sliding against her skin and her hands were locked in your hair.

She needed to get home, back to her boyfriend before he started to worry. You stuck around for a bit, reluctant to return to your apartment. Maybe this was it, maybe this was all you needed. Maybe it was just time to fucking go home.

You truly worried about all of the Bucky lectures you were going to get, all of those Natasha looks, those small ‘tsk’ sounds when Thor was not only upset but disappointed in you, the judgmental eyebrows Tony would be sending your way, and those puppy dog eyes from Peter. Goodness, you were sure Peter missed you. Bruce would never trust you again, no surprise there, you had lied to him. You hadn’t thought about the consequences of your actions when you first did this. You hated, at the time, that you didn’t care if you hurt anyone.

Game over. You weren’t going home not without having scored some points, but to win, you would just end up losing more. More, you now understood that you had taken all of it for granted. Yes, your friends were constant reminders of Steve and they had been acting like you were some mission they needed to complete, but at least they loved you. That was more than a lot of people had and you would let them know about all these epiphanies if they didn’t kill you as soon as you returned.

When you made it back to your apartment, it was only to get the necklace Wanda had given you a few years back for your birthday. It was this huge stone you never remembered the name of, something you rarely took off regardless of that.

The last thing you expected was to find Steve. He looked furious and maybe, just maybe, you were going to get the satisfaction of seeing that you hurt him before you left. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He was at the table again, jaw set, glaring at the wall straight ahead of him. You were trying to think if you’d ever seen him this angry, if you’d ever even heard stories of it. Probably not. He liked to act like you were so damn delicate. Though, maybe he had been onto something.

“Hey,” you snapped after receiving no response, “Why the fuck are you in my hotel room?”

Finally, he turned to you and for the first time ever, you were scared of him.

You kept your distance, you even began moving toward your bedside table where you had your gun stashed.

“I hope you’re not looking for this.” He reached down for a moment then tossed it onto the table noisily.

Shit. “Steve…”

“You fucked her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He stood quickly, storming over to you. For a moment, you had been stunned, and it was enough for him to get several upper hands. It wasn’t as if he needed them to begin with, but with your delayed scattering back, he was able to grab you and pin you to the wall. You were completely defenseless in stupid, impractical heels and an ugly, impractical dress.

“Tell me you didn’t fuck her.”

You said nothing.

He scoffed harshly. “I fucking smelled you all over her…and now I smell her on you. You left those scratches on her back because you wanted me to know.”

“Honestly, I thought I would be gone by the time you found out or by the time you decided to confront me. In fact, if you leave now, I’ll be gone and you’ll never have to see me again.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“What? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He didn’t say anything, instead, he grabbed the neckline of your dress and tore it open. He paid no mind to your startled shoving at his chest. His eyes moved over your skin quickly, you could tell he was getting angrier with every bruise he found.

You were going to play this off, bat away at his feelings just long enough for you to escape. “Steve, I—”

He grabbed your jaw and you immediately shut up. “Go take a shower.”

Your eyebrows pulled together.

“Now.”

“No, you fucking—”

“You can do it on your own or I can do it for you. But to be clear, I will not ask again, and I’m gonna count to ten before I really lose my patience. One, two, three—”

“Steve,” you tried softly. He was still holding you there, so tight that the idea of moving was laughable.

“Four, five—”

“Steve,” you were a tad more frantic, pushing at his forearm.

“Six, seven.” He finally pulled away from you and you bolted to the bathroom without a second thought. He told you to leave the door open and you listened because you no longer had the desire to push him.

You came out in a towel several minutes later. Most of your shower was spent just trying to calm down, the rest was using any product you had to try to get rid of her scent. You didn’t want to risk further angering him with any lingering mentions of Peggy.

He was just feet away from the door when you stepped out and once again, he showed no hesitation in ripping away what covered your body. He looked you over again, briefer this time, obviously displeased with what he saw. He’d hoped most of it was just the lipstick Peggy always wore.

“Are you wet?”

“What?”

“Your pussy. Are you wet?” He was condescendingly slow with every single word and your hand suddenly itched with the need to smack him.

“No.”

“Well, you’re a liar, so I don’t believe you,” he countered. “Check.”

“What?”

“Check,” he repeated. “Now. And if I have to keep repeating myself, you’re not going to like the way this night plays out.”

You averted your gaze as you brought your hand to your center. Your breath caught audibly as you ran your fingers through. Yes, he was an ass, but your body would never stop craving his touch.

“Show me.”

Begrudgingly, you brought your hand back to him.

“Wow, how did I know you were lying? Touch yourself. Keep touching yourself until you come.”

You snorted. “Eww, no—”

He slammed his hand against the wall behind you and you fell silent again. “The same rules apply. Do it or I will do it for you.”

He had never spoken to you like this. Sure, there were the bad missions. There were the times when he just needed to fuck you to forget all the shit he had to deal with. But there was never a moment where you wondered if he would lose control, if he would hurt you unintentionally. Right now, maybe it wasn’t so much that you thought he would. You had known him long enough, loved him long enough, that you knew exactly what kind of man he was. Maybe, right now, it was that you wanted him to hurt you.

Nothing could be worse than when he left you. Nothing he did was going to hurt more than when you went back home and you were, once more, without him. Meaning that you wanted to take everything that you possibly could from this moment. All the pain, all the bruises, all those emotional scars that would add to the ones from before that you had idiotically convinced yourself you could ever get rid of.

He knew you were considering your next move and arched an eyebrow at your continuing silence.

You shook your head. “No.”

One of his hands shot up to wrap around your neck, the other hand went to your cunt where he slid two fingers into you with embarrassing ease.

You brought your hands up to his forearm and dug your nails into his skin. The harder you scratched him, the harder he would choke you—it was something established early on in your relationship. And if he was choking you, you couldn’t moan or whine like he wanted you to.

For a moment, you both stayed still. For an entire second, it wasn’t that he had left you, that you had to track him down, that you fucked his girlfriend and he was fucking furious about it. For a second, it was just you and him, like it was all the times before.

The problem was pride. It wasn’t like before and neither one of you wanted to let the other pretend. He hurt you. You hurt him. Before no longer mattered. So, you shut your eyes and turned your face away from him.

He thrust his fingers just slightly harder than you would have liked, slightly harder than he would have liked. It would sting in the morning, but you wouldn’t hate it. Crescent-shaped cuts would be found everywhere on his skin and he would mourn that they were healing too fast. Both of you knew that this was it. The end.

You were wet, that obscene sound drowning out your choked noises. He absolutely loved this, loved you. He had thought being with Peggy again would make him feel like he was finally home. It took him so long to figure out that he was wrong, to realize that you were one of the few people that actually felt like home. You and Bucky, Nat, Sam, Tony, Wanda, Thor. Not Peggy.

And he could no longer pretend when he felt you tighten around his fingers. He was fucked up and he ruined things a lot of the time. It was just in his DNA, even the fucking serum couldn’t fix that. But prior to leaving, he’d never ruined anything with you. He hadn’t realized how much he missed fucking you because he always did that right.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered.

Instead, you pushed harder at his arm and turned further away from him. Your hips started to buck against his hand, and he knew you wanted this, but he knew you were not going to give in without some fight.

“Open your fucking eyes, Y/N.”

You were not going to. After all the hell he’d put you through? Fuck that, fuck him. You were never going to give him anything he wanted ever again.

He yanked his hand away from your pussy and grabbed your jaw to turn your face to him. He knew that wouldn’t work alone and in a move of desperation, kissed you. A move to get you to let your guard down—a weak move that would not work. As his knee came up to your cunt and you began grinding against it, he started biting your lip.

You buried one hand in his hair and started pulling harder than you should have. He released your jaw to do the same to you. This was much different than how he usually touched you. He’d always been rough, but this hurt, actually hurt.

You rode his thigh with no assistance from him. He let your face go and dropped your hair in search of another tactic. You were no longer kissing, you instead rested your head on his shoulder, eyes still squeezed shut. Even when he grabbed your ass painfully, and when he smacked you after all you did was scream. Even when he grabbed your breasts and pulled on your nipples.

You kept your eyes shut the entire time and he was growing furious. He wasn’t going to let you feel anything even resembling pleasure if you weren’t going to give into him. He pulled away and grabbed your hips.

You opened your eyes then, concerned about what he was doing to you next. He grabbed your shoulder and shoved you onto the bed before you could say a word. You were on your stomach, facing away from him, busy lamenting the loss of your finish. You heard him undressing as you attempted to regain your breath and composure.

He was on top of you before that happened, yanking your legs open before he crawled up, hands stopping on either side of your head. He wasn’t going to tease, he was going to fuck you like the brat you were—hard, mean, unforgiving. He lowered his hips until his cock was lined up with your entrance and then thrust in.

Your scream must have scared the hell out of the neighbors. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cops were being called right then. It wasn’t a pleasurable scream, you certainly liked that he was inside you, but that was just your body. Your heart ached in a way that it never had. You’d thought you were never going to feel him again, but it wasn’t some beautiful feeling of reconnection. You were at square one, you would have to crave his body all over again once this was over. You would go through those same agonizing withdrawals that had truly destroyed you those first few months.

Steve grabbed your hair again and shoved your face into the mattress. He didn’t care about taking it slow, making sure that you, his precious, sweet girlfriend, were okay. He felt just as torn up as you and he couldn’t afford emotional consideration when he was so fucked up. He only knew what he wanted, for you to look at him like you used to. He would do whatever he had to do to get it. Part of him didn’t care how low he would have to go. He wasn’t Captain America here, he didn’t have to live up to the same standards.

You blindly reached back to try to catch his arm, but your attempts never even touched him. He didn’t seem to care about what you were attempting, he just fucked you. He held you down as his hips slammed against your ass and he moaned loudly, shamelessly, selfishly. You finally caught a hold of his arm and used the heel of your palm to push, but since you were out of breath and had been for quite some time, you doubted that there was any real force behind it.

“Can’t breathe, baby?” he wondered, hips still snapping, the head of his cock reaching that delicious spot inside you.

You dug your nails into his skin even though it was an uncomfortable stretch and your muscles were screaming. You were screaming, too, despite everything, despite the lack of strategy in that, but this felt too good not to. You hadn’t been fucked like this in so long, this was what you knew you would never get from someone else. This deep, soul-level connection was a one-time deal. No one else was ever going to be able to give you this.

“If I let you up, you better fucking look at me. I’m not kidding, Y/N. I’ll fucking hold you down again until I fucking come.”

Once his hand lifted from your head, you turned up and gasped for air. It was a short-lived relief as soon as his hand pressed into your neck and angled your head back. It wasn’t that you were scared, and you should have been because you wholeheartedly believed his threat, it was that you were happy to have an excuse to give in. He was stronger than you, right? No one could blame you for giving in, hell, you were just trying to save yourself. Right?

Your eyes met his and his hips stuttered. A ragged breath fell from his lips, you felt it on your hair. That hard look in his eyes softened, he looked a lot like that man that had promised you he would come back to you.

“I love you,” he breathed.

Your eyes instantly filled with tears and you clamped your mouth shut. Both hands were buried in the bedsheets because you needed something to hold, something to tear at, something to destroy to cope with the burning anger that was consuming you.

“I’m sorry, I love you.” His body moved erratically against yours, desperate for all the things he’d longed for since he’d left you. The two of you were sick together, desperate, twisted people that proved it in bed. Peggy wasn’t like that and he was drowning trying to act like he was normal, like he was that same man that she had been with what felt like centuries ago.

He collapsed, chin pressing into the bend of your neck, and you felt his cum spilling into you. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as he rode out his finish. He didn’t stop, however, now he wanted to get you off. He wanted to feel those same pathetic, proud things he experienced whenever he played your body like an instrument.

You didn’t resist, what would be the point? You fucking deserved an orgasm, at the very least. You were ashamed to admit that you wanted it, needed it. You hadn’t honestly felt alive since he left you, but this reminded you what that was like.

He groaned when he felt you tightening around him, his hand wedging between you and the mattress to get to your clit. When he did, it was over and you crashed like a wave against the shore, and you saw stars, and you felt all those things you felt when you were happily in love with a man you thought loved you back.

So, in conclusion, you felt lies.

If he thought he could fuck reality out of your mind, he was sadly mistaken. You were coming down when your hand started sliding across the mattress. Your gun was not the only precaution you took—you’d known Natasha for years and she would strangle you if that was your only form of protection.

He was kissing down your spine when you located your knife, and he had just started to speak when you turned back and just stabbed. You had a general awareness of where he was, you knew you weren’t going to kill him, and you didn’t want to. You just needed to get away, before he started talking, apologizing, making more promises.

You didn’t wait to see where you stabbed, you simply clawed away from him until you could jump from the bed. He cried out and you heard him grabbing for you, but you couldn’t stop for anything. On your bedstand was the necklace you had shown up for, you grabbed it, along with your long coat and then you were on your way out the door.

Running around completely naked in the 40s, clutching a trench coat you knew you weren’t going to leave without, shoeless, dripping sweat and cum—you’d never thought your beautiful life with Steve Rogers would take you here.

A Bucky Barnes lecture was the last thing you wanted, but it was the only thing you would be receiving for probably several months. Well, when he was done with his silent treatment. He was furious when you returned, he didn’t say a word to you. Everyone else had completely fawned over you. They hugged you, pet your hair, told you how proud they were that you came home.

Bucky just stared at you and when they all parted so he could speak to you, he simply stormed out of Bruce’s lab. But yes, Bruce was a tad betrayed, your expectation on that had been correct. You apologized profusely and brought him coffee every day, several times a day until he stopped looking at you like a kicked baby animal.

Tony was disappointed, but not to Bucky’s extent. He simply could not fathom the hold Steve had on you still, told you as much. You admitted that you were wrong, and well, with Tony, that was really all he needed. He wanted to be right and he wanted you to tell him that you learned your lesson. To the untrained eye, he would look like a narcissist. But you knew him better, you knew he was just scared of losing you. Again. He merely wanted to know that you were sticking around and that was what you conveyed when you told him you had made a mistake going in the first place. He dropped it, like it never happened.

Natasha didn’t let you out of her sight for almost two complete weeks. She watched you and you felt her watching you, but she wasn’t going to pry. She was angry, but she was still handling you with gloves on. She wasn’t going to push you emotionally no matter how badly she wanted to. She also wasn’t going to ask questions, scared that prying would move you further away. You told her you saw Steve and that you got what you needed, she nodded, and that was the end of it. She still watched you, but she was slyer about it. She made sure you were in your room when she woke up and went to bed, but she took up Tony’s pretending routine as well.

Wanda didn’t need to ask anything; she knew because she read your thoughts. She knew because she had been outraged that you left without a goodbye, so she felt entitled to those thoughts. Not because she needed to know what happened but because she needed to know if you were going to try anything else again. She stopped being mad at you one day when you were making Bruce coffee. You hadn’t heard her, you were there in the kitchen, stuck in your own thoughts. She hugged you tight, didn’t say a word, but just like that, it was over.

Almost everyone had gotten over it in record time. You knew you were an asshole and you apologized, and you meant it, but even if you hadn’t, it wasn’t like they were ever going to hold it against you. Sometimes, knowing that, it made you feel worse because these people loved you and just like Steve had done to you, you hurt them. In the exact same way. You left.

Sam was in a much more difficult position. He felt a duty to you as one of Steve’s closest friends, but he also felt for Bucky. You’d really hurt Bucky and Sam could forgive you for being reckless, psychotic almost, even selfish. But the look on Bucky’s face when they discovered that you were gone was a hard thing to shake.

He stopped ignoring you after a couple of days, but the conversations were short, shallow. He didn’t ask about your time there and he didn’t ask about your feelings after. It was all small talk and polite conversation, it seemed like you barely knew each other at all. But sometimes, you would catch him watching you, like he was looking for signs of something that he couldn’t ask you. He wanted to know if you were still torn up by this Steve thing.

You were. You cried a lot, as if it happened all over again. Technically, in a way, it did. But you didn’t show them that, it was no longer their burden to bear. You had caused them pain when they tried to take yours away. You waited until you were alone or out of the tower, you cried quietly and quickly. You did not allow yourself those days where you would just hole up in your room. You were always awake early, asleep late, and you took care of yourself because you owed them all at least that.

You knew when Bucky was less angry, but you weren’t going to approach him. You were totally fine just waiting for him to let you know when he wanted to speak to you, which was one random morning after you’d finished sparring with Nat.

He was waiting outside the gym, muttered that he wanted to speak to you, and even Natasha had the good sense to get lost. It wasn’t going to be pretty, that much was clear. It was in his tone, his eyes, his tense posture.

He took you back to your room and ordered you to sit on the foot of your bed. He paced for a long time and you didn’t say a word or make a sound. When he finally looked at you, you seriously worried he might kill you. He was angry all over again, had worked himself up with his thoughts but you weren’t sure why entirely.

“Did you see him?”

You nodded.

“You talked to him.”

“About…everything? Um, no, not really.” There hadn’t been that conversation. Any attempts on Steve’s part were expertly diverted by you, with all your ill intentions and knowledge of how to get under Steve’s skin.

He nodded curtly. “So, this was for nothing then? You put me through all of this shit for nothing?”

“Bucky, I’m really so—”

He was storming out of the room before you finished your sentence.

You didn’t see him for two days, and when you did, it was clear again, you would be getting more silence. You told yourself you couldn’t be that hurt. You’d hurt him first, that meant he had the right to express his feelings even if that resulted in him not speaking to you.

Several days later, Bucky dropped his Winter Solider persona and became a worried, bitter mother hen. You were sick, it wasn’t something that you thought was a big deal. He’d come to speak to you again and with his enhanced hearing, heard you puking in the bathroom.

When you were done, he forced you back into bed and got Bruce. Bruce did the usual, it wasn’t as if anyone was worried, he was just too scared not to indulge Bucky. Speaking of, he was off in the corner of the room, claiming that you’d probably gotten some kind of time-traveling bug. He was being dramatic, and you became aware of what exactly had drawn him and Steve together all those years ago. Extra bitches.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bruce assured. “Her temperature is fine.”

“Take her blood, test it for time-traveling bugs.”

You rolled your eyes, and because Bruce had heard of the Winter Soldier, he did as was directed. Even though you were pretty sure that Bucky wasn’t serious. Not completely. Once Bruce had the excuse of focusing on your blood, that left you and Bucky alone.

“Why did you even go?”

This was not going to go over well. “Um…I had a plan…”

“A plan,” he repeated. “To do what?”

“I was sort of…kind of, just a little bit, going to kill Peggy.”

His mouth dropped.

You rolled your eyes. “I know that was stupid—”

“You’re insane!”

You glared. “Bucky.”

“You didn’t do it, right?!”

“No,” you huffed. “I should have, would have been putting her out of her misery. He’s such a fucking tool.”

He dragged his hand down his face, holding his jaw as he leaned over in his chair and pressed his elbows to the tops of his thighs. He was silent for a very long time before saying, “Yeah…he is. Did he hurt you?”

The bruises had been painfully obvious, there was no way to hide them, and you knew they could all guess what they came from. You felt your skin getting hot as you shook your head. “No. He wouldn’t do that, Bucky.”

He scoffed. “I thought that…but he did leave you and I never thought he could do that.”

“He’s…not different,” you claimed. “Just…”

“A fucking tool.” He nodded. “I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“No, I’m really sorry, Bucky. I’m not just sorry for leaving and upsetting you. I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry that you wasted months trying to make me feel better and then I just left. I’m sorry that I took you guys for granted, I’m sorry that I didn’t know how fortunate I was to have people who love me as much as you guys do. I know I betrayed your trust so it’s not going to mean much, but I will never do anything like that again.”

His eyes flit up from the floor to your face. “I do love you. So fucking much. You’re my only connection to him. And you left and I didn’t have that, I didn’t have you and I didn’t have him, and I was just…lost.”

You felt those familiar pricks in the back of your eyes, but you told yourself not to cry, you didn’t have the right. But just as soon as his eyes filled with tears, you couldn’t hold back your own anymore. He practically flung himself off the chair to rush to you, arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders.

You weren’t sure how long you both stayed there, just clinging to each other. This felt like the end of all the tension, though. This felt like a fresh start and you and Bucky were just going to have to move on without Steve. You pondered that for a while. You would have to try to find him a girlfriend or a boyfriend so he wouldn’t try to find you someone. It was going to be a little give and take, probably a major power-struggle every now and then, but it was going to be good.

The only reason you two pulled away was because both a frantic Bruce and Natasha ran into the room. They’d made all the noise two people could possibly make as they did so, crashing into each other because the doorway wasn’t big enough for the both of them.

They were wide-eyed, out of breath, both looking like they had just seen a ghost. But a much different ghost since they both regarded one another with a look of confusion.

“What is it?” Bucky demanded. “Wait, she doesn’t really have a time-traveling bug, does she?”

“Oh!” Bruce scoffed awkwardly, “I’d say so!”

You narrowed your eyes. “What the hell does that mean?”

“That can wait!” Natasha declared.

“No, it certainly cannot!” Bruce insisted.

These were two people who were normally soft-spoken, not because they were meek or soft in any general sense—hello, Black Widow and the Hulk—but in that they didn’t like drawing so much attention to themselves.

As they both started hissing arguments back at each other, Bucky sighed.

You glanced at him and he shrugged at you in response. Things were all better one second, but the very next, the world was ending.

Both Bruce and Natasha turned back to you with resolute looks on their faces. Natasha only spoke loudly this time because she was hoping to yell over Bruce, “Steve is back!” And Bruce yelled in a completely indelicate manner because he was shocked, horrified, extremely concerned, “You’re pregnant!”

Oh, shit.

Natasha and Bruce took a second to process what the other said and then gasped, turning to one another to share a look. They faced you again and decided to repeat the news only, Bruce screamed about Steve being back and Natasha more so framed it as a shrieking question you’re pregnant?!

You glanced at Bucky.

His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed just slightly. He merely nodded once then stood, throwing his hands up in the air. “Well, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

Yep, the world was most certainly ending.

#steve rogers x reader #why write what you requested when i can just be a moody water sign and write angst? #i don't even remember when i wrote this and i barely edited it honestly bc i'm just kinda over it #i wouldn't have even posted it bc it's been THAT long but i spent time on this so #my writing