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so-mordor-itis · 11 months

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Eye on You

“give peace a chance, let the fear you have fall away, i’ve got my eye on you. say yes to heaven, say yes to me.

if you go, I’ll stay.. you come back, I’ll be right here. like a barge at sea, in the storm I stay clear, cause I’ve got my mind on you”

I told you I'd write a drabble but uhhhhh this ain't no drabble- @unhealthy-leon-brainrot

1998.

Leon loved differently back then. He loved in a way a 21 year old man freshly graduated from college could. He was giddy whenever the person in his interest would smile at him, would give him any time of day. His hands would become clammy, and his heart would race as if he were still a teenager. Sometimes, he truly felt like one at heart. That his soul was trapped in that time period, and it wouldn't ever leave.

It's why when he met you for the first time, and when you smiled at him as if nothing could go wrong, his face burned, and his heart almost burst right then and there. You were a brilliant flame, and he felt like a small candle stick awaiting to be lit.

He asked you out in a sputter of words, hating himself immediately after listening to them tumble. Leon didn't want his nervousness to show. He had been practicing for weeks in front of bathroom mirrors and sometimes in the Officer's Academy shower, hoping nobody overheard him. He wanted it to be perfect because that's what you deserved.

You giggled, and somehow, his heart both fluttered and sank. Your eyes glittered with an emotion that made him slightly hopeful. "You want to take me out on a date?"

"Yeah," he replied, all too quickly. "If you'd like to that is--only if you'd like to." He wished he could stop himself from talking, but he couldn't.

You smiled at him, and dammit there went the last of his coherent thoughts. "You know what? Sure. I don't have anything interesting going on." You laughed again, looking away shyly. "I can't say no when you're looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Leon asked, though he fully knew what you were talking about.

"Like I'm the only thing on your mind," you responded. You were fidgeting with your shirt, and Leon wanted nothing more than to grab your hands and hold them.

You weren't incorrect, either. You were on his mind a frightening amount. This affection for you was a buzz in the back of his mind, a throb in his chest.

You still said yes.

"So it's a date?"

"Yes, it's a date."

He swore he grinned from ear to ear, and he saw you return it.

The day he was supposed to pick you up, he never did. You were more worried than disappointed. Leon didn't seem like the type of guy you ask you out, gazing at you as if you created the sky and the stars, and then drop you like a hat. Despite the bitter part of you wanting to think he ditched you, the rational part knew better.

He called you hours later, apologetic and broken. "I'm so sorry. Something... something came up."

"Forget the date," you quickly muttered, surprised at how swift the words left your mouth. "Are you okay?"

He was silent for a bit. "Not really."

"Where are you? I'm coming to you."

"No, wait," Leon called your name almost in a plea. "I don't want you to drag yourself into this."

You weren't backing down without a little bit of a fight. "Leon, please."

He paused before stating he was in a hospital outside of Raccoon City.

Leon knew he loved you after that. He never admitted to himself until he was sure, but he couldn't prevent that innocent crush from growing into something more powerful.

You became a firework, blazing in his lonely, starless sky. You had always been.

2004.

He liked to believe he still loved the same. Wanted to love the same as he did all those years ago. His heart pounding and his palms becoming clammy, blue eyes full of innocent love.

He knew he didn't.

Leon was reserved now, awkward with his affection, hesitant with his touches yet still craved it. He hated that you had to watch him develop--no, perhaps devolve was the better word here--this trauma response. This training, this work, it all collapsed on top of him, and sometimes he felt as if it would eventually crush him.

Yet, some part of you still saw his old self. That stupid, lovesick boy who craved your attention the way a puppy would a scrap of food. You still gave him love, still kissed his scars, still told him sweet nothings when he broke down crying because the pressure was too much.

He once asked you if you were okay with all of this still, okay with him. You gave him your usual smile, the one that made him weak and touched that lovesick boy deep down. "You're stuck with me, Leon. I gave myself to you the day you asked me out. I'm staying. No matter what happens, I'm here."

He kissed you hard that day. Harder than he ever had. Placing a promise against your lips that he would always come back to you. No matter what.

You often wondered what he would do without you. If he would crash and burn the moment you turned around, if the night terrors would claw at his throat and suffocate him.

It was hard, watching him suffer mentally when all you could do was give him words of affirmation. Reassure him that the nightmares weren't real and that you were truly there with him and not bloodied up and dead.

Those moments made the good ones feel like precious gifts. Not just for you, but also for him. You carried them in your heart and held on to those when the bad days would storm over his head.

You remembered one of those good days so clearly, so vividly it never failed to make you smile. One day, while looking over some files, Leon had fallen asleep. His glasses--the ones he usually only used whenever he was reading important work files--were scrunched against his face, pushing up against the bridge of his nose. You remembered walking into his office, snickering a little at the sight. You sighed, shaking your head. "What am I going to do with you?"

You approached him quietly, as if the smallest movement would ruin his peaceful slumber. You grabbed the rims of his glasses carefully, pulling them off his face so he'd be more comfortable. As you did, you caught a feel of his soft locks and couldn't help but lightly smooth between your fingers. You took note of his facial features; his cheekbones were more rigid, and the shadows of his eyes were sunken in. His hair was even a bit darker, looking dirtier blond than it had when you first met. Still handsome, that would never change.

The urge to kiss his forehead had you twitching, but you didn’t want to disturb him. Especially since he had probably been staring at documented words for who knows how long.

You moved to quietly nudge yourself away before his sleepy voice mumbled. "Gonna go so soon?"

You blinked, looking down to see his eyes were now open. Still hazy from his rest. You practically beamed at him. "Didn't wanna wake you."

Leon sat up, stretching a little before putting his glasses back on. "Guess I must've passed out. These reports practically put me to sleep. I can't believe this is part of what they pay me for."

You attempted to catch a glimpse of whatever was on the document, but he placed them flat on the table when he caught you.

Leon snickered. "Classified. Sorry, baby."

You pouted a little. "Can't I help my boyfriend out a little?"

He stood up and stretched more, popping his back. "Not if it means you getting in trouble by seeing the reports. I'd also get in trouble, and we definitely wouldn't want that."

"Man, and here I thought I'd be able to see the famous missions Leon Kennedy goes on," you teased.

Leon just rolled his eyes as if you two had had this discussion before. You have. You just like to see him smile. Distract him as much as you could.

"Become an agent, then we'll talk." He took off his glasses and put them back on his desk. He placed his gaze upon you, and you could feel the adoration in his eyes. He still looked at you as if you had created the sky, the moon, the stars. As if you were his sun and he orbited around you and only you. You would never get over it.

Leon mimicked the action you were doing earlier and parted your hair from your cheeks so he could kiss your forehead.

His work phone rang loud, interrupting the moment. Leon sighed and kissed you quickly against the lips before the obligation to his duty forced him to go answer it.

"Kennedy. Yes, sir."

You observed his body language as he discussed with his superior. His shoulders went rigid, his eyes focused as if he were already on the field. He was prepared for whatever they were about to tell him because he had to be.

He hung up after a minute of giving affirming hums and a variety of yeses. Leon plopped his phone on the documentations and gave you an apologetic look.

"Don't worry about it." You shook your head. You knew what he was about to say. He didn't even need to tell you anything out loud. His eyes told the whole story.

"I really don't deserve you," he mumbled. "Makes me wonder how you do it."

"Because I love you." You said simply. "I'm here to stay, remember?"

|Tags:|

@seraphiism , @uhlunaro , @izuniias , @honeyfict , @konigbabe , @leonskillshot , @airanke , @muffimtv , @justonemore-fic , @mandalhoerian , @tosuckmyweenis , @boundinparchment

#resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil imagines #resident evil 4 #resident evil #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy resident evil #leon x you #leon x y/n #leon x reader #my writing

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justivik · 5 days

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; italian boyfriend! yandere x fem! reader

english isn't my first language

You have been in a relationship with Matthew for 7 months. You have lived very nice moments like going out to fancy restaurants or cooking together on a Saturday night, no doubt you felt very lucky to have him by your side but there was something that caught your attention about him.

His pathological jealousy.

He would tell you that he trusted you but not others, it seemed like all day long he was suspicious of all the men and even women who surrounded you and maintained a friendship with you. It seems like an endless loop when you two fight, it was always suspicions on his part against you. The two of you would fight, make up and end up getting intimate. Almost like that Katy Perry song; you loved your boyfriend and you were determined to put an end to that intense jealousy so you could have a stable relationship…. Or that was your idea. You two went back to the same fight with the same theme, his distorted suspicions showing with every word and look he directed at you.

“Understand me, coure mio. I feel that your new coworker is trying to flirt with you, I've seen how he looks at you and how he tries to have some friction with you and that makes me feel…. disgustato!” He shouted whispering the last word so as not to attract the attention of the next door neighbors, with his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw tighter.

“He has no other intentions, Matt. He's already engaged to his partner and he was just being nice.”

“Being nice, being nice! You're lying! He was looking at you with other intentions and his touches were not friendly. No touch from a man who is not me is friendly.” He said.

You watched as he brought his left hand to his face with an annoyed sigh, his eyelashes pointing downward as his lips traced inaudible whispers. You stood in silence as Matt tried to calm his fit of jealousy, his hands clenched and his jaw went back to the same tense state. He sat down on the couch closer and looked at you, his sweet eyes were now darkly bitter, he opened his lips to say something again.

“Ti amo, e ho bisogno che tu mi capisca that he is not a good man, stay away from him and don't talk to him anymore. He is not a good influence and look at the problems he is bringing.”

You love it when he speaks Italian and he knows the power of saying sweet words to you in his native language. He knew how to manipulate you quickly and easily, making you nervous and blushing but this time you weren't going to let him, you were tired of the same arguments.

”He's not guilty of anything, Matt. Work on your fucking jealousy before we break up this relationship and we're more broken than anything.” You looked into his eyes and how they turned from angry to scared of losing you.

Desperate babbling was coming out of his mouth, head tilted from side to side in a no.

“If you leave me, I'd die! Don't think stupid things, coure mio.” He kept flattering you with words as soft as a rose but painful as its thorns.

“Stay with me, please. I love you, not anyone else. You!”

You felt Matthew's arms around your waist, his face on your stomach and his tears staining your shirt. You sighed deeply and then stroked his messy hair and promised him that you would never leave his side. This time your fight ended in something more than fucking…It all happened so fast, but you were glad your fight didn't last more than an hour. You would have to do a lot of work with your boyfriend on his jealousy and insecurities.

“I'll never leave you, honey”

My first post & open request!!!

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celestiababie · 1 year

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A Handful - K.MG

Pairings: Stay at home husband! Mingyu x fem! reader

Genre: fluff, highly suggestive (18+), domestic!au, established relationship!

Warnings: PREGNANT READER, chest fondling (m and f receiving), cursing, Mingyu is a little shit, reader is hormonal and easily annoyed, Mingyu possibly has a breeding kink, reader is shorter than Mingyu, let me know if I need to add anything else!

Word Count: 915 (short but I was on hiatus and this is the first thing I'm writing in MONTHS)

Summary: Your husband is no stranger to being touchy and clingy, but he's been especially annoying ever since you gave him the big news.

A/N: I'M MOTHERFUCKING BACK!!! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing this. For reference, this acts as a small prequel to a small series I have about stay at home husband/dad! Mingyu. You don't have to read the other parts, but I will leave a link to the series masterlist just in case people want to read it. Please leave feedback, I'd really appreciate it, especially since I'm a bit nervous about posting again haha.

Series Masterlist

A pair of warm hands suddenly wrap around your growing stomach, engulfing you as a gigantic presence looms over you.

The shriek that escapes your lips is embarrassing, but not nearly embarrassing as your hands lose their grasp on the plate you were scrubbing, dropping it in the sink and causing the fine porcelain to shatter.

"Shit—are you hurt, baby?" Your husband's voice echoes through the not yet completed kitchen, irking you more than it normally would.

Spinning in his hold, you wipe your damp hands on the sides of your sweatpants before shooting him one of the deadliest (and sexiest) glares he's ever witnessed.

"No, I'm not hurt, but I keep telling you not to sneak up behind me when I'm doing the dishes! I don't even understand how your tall ass is that fucking quiet," you start, your brows furrowed as you hold your glare.

Mingyu opens his mouth to reply but can't get a single word out before you shush him with a single finger to the lips.

"I'm not finished. And this is the fifth. No, the sixth time a plate has broken since we've moved here."

"That's not that bad, Y/n," Mingyu defends with a pout accompanying his words.

You cock a brow at the tall man, scoffing at his pathetic defense, your tongue pressed into the side of your cheek.

Six plates is a lot for any man, but it becomes comical when it's only been a month and a half since moving into the new house with your klutz of a husband.

"You've also spilled drinks. Many times. Dropped multiple glasses. And don't think that I'm stupid and don't know you dropped the bottle of wine Minghao gifted us. I was looking forward to drinking that. That's pretty bad, admit it, Gyu," you list off, enjoying how a deep rosiness reaches the tips of his ears, almost as deep as the wine you'd never be able to appreciate.

Mingyu slowly turned your frame back around to face the sink once again. His hands roamed across your stomach, which was getting bigger and bigger with every day that passed.

Like always, Mingyu felt his heart racing in his chest as he caressed your stomach, his body flooding with that overwhelming emotion he could only describe as true unconditional happiness and love for both of his girls.

Okay, maybe he didn't know the sex of the baby yet, but his gut was telling him he was gonna be a father of a little baby girl, and he was sticking to it for now. His intuition rarely failed him, and if he hadn't stuck to his guns, he would have never got together with you.

"You wouldn't be able to drink it right now anyway, baby. Let's focus on things I'm good at, hm? The kitchen is almost done, and the living room looks beautiful, if I do say so myself. I'm pretty good at painting, so I'll have the nursing done in no time. I just cooked my beautiful wife a wonderful meal that she was moaning about the entire time," he shamelessly declares, the smugness apparent in his voice.

You bite back a sassy remark when you feel his hands traverse up your abdomen, gently grabbing your swollen breasts in his large hands to massage them carefully. Your head relaxes against him as you let out a deep sigh, your husband's skillful hands rubbing away the ache and soreness.

Mingyu studied your blissful expression for what felt like the millionth time. He'd never grow tired of how your eyes would flutter shut, eyelashes resting on the tops of your cheeks as your pretty lips parted, taking deep breaths as you savored the feeling of his hands on your body.

He tilts his head to bring his lips closer to your ear, "And I'm really good at making mommy feel good, isn't that right, baby?"

Your eyes roll behind your eyelids as you let out a breathy laugh, amused but not surprised by your husband's antics.

"You're so annoying, Mingyu," you moan, practically purring your husband's name, which only inflates his ego more.

"How convenient for me; you've always looked so damn sexy when annoyed."

A light bulb lights up in your head as you watch your husband's back muscles as he walks over to the kitchen sink to set aside the dishes.

Let's see how he likes it.

A Cheshire-like smirk paints your lips as you slowly come up behind your half-naked husband to wrap your arms around his waist, your stomach pressing against his tanned skin.

But much to your disappointment, Mingyu didn't give you the reaction you hoped for.

"Gonna keep me company while I wash up?"

You frown and deeply exhale as you crawl your hands further up his torso. Your nails drag along his skin, which generates a shiver throughout his entire being, goosebumps forming on his skin.

"No, I'm trying to give you a taste of your own medicine, but you're enjoying this too much," you reply, your fingers inching further with every word.

A low moan rumbles out of Mingyu as your hands feel up his sore chest from working out right before waking you for breakfast.

Shit, his chest got even bigger. Damn, that home gym he insisted on.

You watch as Mingyu writhes against you as your fingers trail over his nipples, a shaky breath forced out of his body as he grabs the edge of the sink.

He's so annoying.

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snzhrchy · 1 year

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— ☆ Deja Vu !

chishiya shuntaro x gn!reader

summary; the patient you're looking after looks very familiar, almost as if you've known him for a lifetime. notes; i love making y/n a doctor/nurse in my fics (i'm projecting) taglist; lmk if u wanna be on it !

'If we ever get back, what do you think you're gonna do?' you asked, a simple question yet the answer to it was still unclear to you.

'I am already a surgeon so...' Chishiya responded after a moment. Though his face was covered by the darkness of the night, you could still see his smirk.

'No! I meant like... with your life,' you replied, 'like if I ever went back, I think I'd finally live my life, the way I want to live it.'

Being a nurse wasn't easy, it was even worse when many, many people got hit by a meteorite in one of the most busiest cities of Japan, you included.

Your injuries weren't as fatal as the many other patients and the day after you got discharged from the hospital, you were called back in to resume your job. Your injuries included a broken wrist and a few minor scars across your body.

The patients you were assigned were two young men, both of whom had suffered the same fate as you but their injuries were far worse than yours. One of them had various burn scars across his body and the other had terrible chest problems.

3 days after you resumed your job, the patient with ashy-gray hair was ready to leave as most of his injuries had been healed.

Though, you never communicated with the gray-haired man, there was something familiar about him. His facial features felt all too familiar, like you had seen him before or maybe it was just deja vu. You were very grateful that most of the time, he was asleep so he couldn't ever see you curiously examining his features.

The first time you ever talked with him was when you informed him of his release. It was also the first time you ever heard him talk. That feeling of comfort and familiarity was always present when you were near him.

'-please take caution however and if you feel pain in your chest, specifically...' As you explained to the patient about his now improved physical state, you couldn't help but notice his dark eyes fixate on you. His head was turned slightly to the side as he listened to your explanation. Though, you were unsure if he was actually listening to you or not.

'Do I know you?' he spoke at last, his voice was cold yet there was an odd sense of comfort in them; his voice sounded so soft.

'I don't think so?' your reply came out as more of a question than a response. He nodded, 'You were there? During the meteorite?'

'Yeah...' you trailed off as your eyes glanced at your injury for a moment. 'And they're still making you work?' He asked with an eyebrow raised.

You shook your head, confirming his statement.

You both stood silent for a few moments, he was propped up on his bed while you sheepishly stood there, toying with your uniform.

'Y'know, you really do look familiar to me, it's like we've met before but I don't know where,' you spoke, breaking the silence. 'It wasn't just me, then,' he said but it sounded as if he was saying it to himself than you.

Taking a gulp, you finally asked him: 'My shift ends in an hour, so what if we go visit the local coffee shop if you're interested, that is,'

He smiled - it wasn't a smirk but an actual, genuine smile, 'I'd like that.'

#aib chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #aib s2 #aib imagines #aib x reader #alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no alice #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland imagines

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poohsources · 7 months

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🐝 * ― 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑺: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

❛ if we changed back then, we could change again. ❜ ❛ what can i say? i'm a sucker for happy endings. ❜ ❛ i'm sorry, are you talking to me? ❜ ❛ i would give anything to be like that. ❜ ❛ are we gonna have a problem? ❜ ❛ you've come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick? ❜ ❛ time for you to prove you're not a loser anymore. ❜ ❛ you can join the team or you can bitch and moan. ❜ ❛ mr. no-name kid, say who might you be? ❜ ❛ it's fine if you don't agree, but i would fight for you if you would fight for me. ❜ ❛ happiness comes when everything numbs. ❜ ❛ does your mommy know you eat all this crap? ❜ ❛ i learned to cook pasta, i learned to pay rent; i learned the world doesn't owe you a cent. ❜ ❛ you heard it man, it's time to rage! ❜ ❛ so wait, it's lime, then salt, then shot? ❜ ❛ you're doing it wrong! ❜ ❛ really? 'cause i feel great. ❜ ❛ dreams are coming true when people laugh but not at you! ❜ ❛ i didn't need your help. ❜ ❛ i can't believe you actually came. ❜ ❛ why d'you gotta be so weird all the time? people wouldn't hate you so much if you acted normal. ❜ ❛ thirty hours to live - how shall i spend them? ❜ ❛ sorry, but i really had to wake you. ❜ ❛ let's go you know the drill; i'm hot and pissed and on the pill. ❜ ❛ you say you're numb inside but i can't agree. ❜ ❛ how'd you find my address? ❜ ❛ no sleep tonight for you, better chug that mountain dew. ❜ ❛ no one sees the me inside of me. ❜ ❛ keep going. this has to be good enough to fool the cops. ❜ ❛ i never knew about her pain. ❜ ❛ don't talk mean like that. ❜ ❛ what did they do to you that you hate them so? ❜ ❛ you are the only thing that's right about this broken world. ❜ ❛ they'll die because we say they must. ❜ ❛ what the fuck have you done?! ❜ ❛ let's be normal. see bad movies, sneak a beer, and watch tv. ❜ ❛ don't you want a life with me? ❜ ❛ if you could let me in, i could be good with you. ❜ ❛ so what's it gonna be? i wanna be with you. ❜ ❛ but your love's too good to lose. ❜ ❛ you're the one i choose. ❜ ❛ there's nowhere to hide if i say the wrong thing. ❜ ❛ but i believe any dream worth having is a dream that should not have to end. ❜ ❛ no, you wouldn't understand! ❜ ❛ try me! i've experienced everything you're going through right now. ❜ ❛ you don't know what my world looks like! ❜ ❛ they made you blind, messed up your mind but i can set you free. ❜ ❛ i was meant to be yours! ❜ ❛ don't give up on me now. ❜ ❛ i can't make this alone! finish what we've begun. ❜ ❛ i am all that you need. ❜ ❛ please don't leave me alone. you were all i could trust, i can't do this alone. ❜ ❛ no one here deserves to die except for me and the monster i created. ❜ ❛ i wish we met before they convinced you life is war. ❜ ❛ i wish you'd come with me ... ❜ ❛ i am damaged, far too damaged, but you're not beyond repair. ❜ ❛ hope you'll miss me, wish you'd kiss me. ❜ ❛ i'd be honored if you'd let me be your friend. ❜

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #roleplay meme #sentence starters #musical starters #musical sentence starters #rph #requested.

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kairiscorner · 8 months

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So I was watching the live adaptation of the addams family (released in 1991)

AND MHIEEEE,,,,,,,,

There’s this one scene where Gomez is looking down at Morticia

And his dialogue…..

“Look at her. I would die for her. I would kill for her.”

AND I CANNOT, FOR THE LIFE OF ME, STOP THINKING ABT MIGUEL IN THIS SCENE

Like babes have we ever considered gothic!miggy b4 bc

Bc….

ATE NALOLOKA NA PO AKO SAYO /hinimatay ngl i can't see current miggy as a goth, but younger miggy? oh hell yeah, he'd probably try out a goth aesthetic huhu MMMMMMM I WANNA WRITE THIS NGL ACK

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

i mean it when i say... i'd kill for you, i'd die for you. – miguel o'hara x reader

there are times when he has to ask himself, really get himself thinking–"why am i still spider man? for what am i saving all these people who i've never even met before, taking hits from overzealous, insane villains so nobody else gets hurt even though they don't even thank me in the end... living despite the pain of living, loving despite the risk of having my heart broken–that i would be the reason of a loved one's heartache and suffering?"

there are hardly any times when questions of severe existentialism are ever answered early by the vast universe; the answers are hidden, muddled by the cosmos that keep expanding, never to be known by any living mortal–at least, not directly. miguel's dilemma is such, for truly, what is his life when put into the perspective of the grander scheme of things? what is the meaning behind the life he lives when he cannot even get a moment of rest until he's in the grave? what does he come home for, only to leave that home all over again and come back who knows when?

as he swings home, making minimal noise and conspicuous movements towards the window of your bedroom with miguel–he stares for a moment into the room. he's greeted to the very familiar sight of you sleeping soundly by your side, hopefully not suffering any internal turmoil that would discomfort you in your slumber. as you lay there, with your eyes shut and mouth slightly parted–gently snoring and mumbling in your sleep–with the moonlight illuminating your gentle figure, fragile frame... miguel has the answer to a his pondering answered in that one scene of his evening–of his life.

he mustered the courage to enter the room, quietly crawling in like a thief in the night. he shut the window closed after entering and dissipated his suit–leaving him in a pair of dark color briefs. he got under the covers, hoping not to wake you from your seemingly peaceful sleep, and once he snuggled up next to you... he found himself holding his breath in, as if anticipating that at any moment, the multiverse would part you from him and keep him as he always was before you came: miserable, lonely, and empty–without meaning.

your sleeping face was turned to his side, your eyelashes and lips looking so ravishing to miguel to pepper with kisses–your nose looking so... biteable. he smiled to himself slightly and gently pushed back a small lock of your hair behind your ear, shifting his face to move closer to you, to gaze into your lovely face and just soak in all of you.

"look at you... oh, the things i'd do for you; i can't even begin... to tell you..." he muttered, having a one-way conversation with your sleeping figure. he brushed the back of his finger against your cheek slowly, savoring the feeling of your warm skin. "i do all these things, all these things nobody thanks me for, to keep you safe–to see you in this very bed, to hold you another night, see you another day and hear your voice speak my name and tell me you love me..." he murmured, moving his face closer to yours–your lips almost touching, his nose poking yours.

he exhaled and smiled gently up at you. "i mean it when i say i'd die for you... i'd kill for you. nobody else matters to me, not anymore, when all i have left is you." he whispered as he leaned his forehead against yours, giving your nose a small kiss, taking your hand in his and gently squeezing it. whether you heard him or not didn't matter, miguel had finally gotten his answer from the universe somehow–and miguel would repeat to you that answer from the universe again and again and again.

you're the only one he has now, the only one who's never left him and has defied what the multiverse has in store for him–you're all that he loved, loves, and will ever love–until the end of time and space itself, you are all that he wants and needs.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck @melovetitties @arachnoia @fictarian @yuridopted0 @ophanimgold @meeom @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @popeheywardssecretgf @smokeywhalee

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miyaur · 1 year

Note

hi~ can i have 'mornings with them' with the sumeru men? little scenarios/headcanons, please. 🙏🥰

⟢ you taste like vanilla ft. al haitham, cyno, kaveh, tighnari ・synopsis. say good morning to the most handsome man beside you, your significant other. ・notes. giggles, you guys can have these drabbles rq while i finish the long requests in my drafts/inbox ・warnings. just literal mornings with them, generally fluff, slight spoilers to in-game story

THE SCRIBE: ALHAITHAM ・pulls a bunch of all nighters, can barely sleep when he can, unless you're there, as long as you guys cuddle he'll be okay, proper sleep schedule back on track. likes to have his arms around your waist and sleeping to the side while you face him, kind of gives the feelings you're in his arms, no one will take you away from him.

・usually wakes up before you, but probably waits in bed for 30 more minutes, just watching you sleep peacefully in his embrace. wouldn't admit it out loud, but he thinks you're cute when you sleep, before he gets out of bed he'd kiss your forehead, and write a note on your nightstand and make breakfast, the notes are probably sticky notes saying what's for breakfast with a cute lil drawing of you

as he watches your chest heave, he brushes the hair off your face to kiss your forehead, you'd hear a very faint whisper, but he said "I never thought I'd ever get this close to someone, so close to feel their breath on my skin, and their lips on mine. and It's much more amazing that it's you." and he'd slowly get up to leave, but nothing brightened his morning more than your sleepy expression near his chest.

・will always make sure that mostly whatever is your favorite will be your breakfast, knows you can cook for lunch by yourself, but in advance would get stuff out for you, puts another sticky note and recommends what you should cook ・"You've never seen me ever broken, and I'm scared you'll leave me once you do, so I'm strong for you."

THE GENERAL MAHAMATRA: CYNO ・probably ends up finding you stranded on the couch asleep with a blanket covering you, always loves carrying you up the stairs, gives him the feeling that he can protect someone. or that he needs to, and that gives him a stronger will to fight in battle. ends up caressing your head from behind, just finds his hands lost in your hair, ends up sleeping anyway. ・honestly always wakes up before you, no matter how early you wake up, he's already out of bed, breakfast is usually made.

"I gave you thousands of reasons to walk away, why didn't you?" He said, his face next to your neck, "Because I love you. That's why." Cuddling him closer, your fingers ran through his hair, and a kiss to his forehead set him asleep.

・when you do wake up with him at the same time, likes to take showers with you too. there's also cooking together, likes to hold you from behind and rest his head on yours, or put his head near to your neck, and talks to you about the food or what he has to do that day. ・leaves for work, but not without your lips on his on his way out. never forget to say i love you back when he tells you "love you dear, see you tonight." like he will wait by the doorframe for you to say it back,

"See you tonight, dear, love you." Cyno said walking to the door with his spear in hand, "Mhm, see you tonight." You said going to start clean up the table, it's been about 10 minutes, and your boyfriend is still waiting by the entrance to your home, "You haven't gone yet? Did you forget something? Want me to go get it for you?" You said coming close again, "You forgot something." Getting a little closer to your face, "I did?" "You didn't say I love you back. Say it now, or I'm not going." "Well I much prefer you stay here with me than go to work, but I love you too." "Thank you, stay safe alright?"

・"I hope that I find you in every life, no matter where you are, I want to find you, and only you." is all he whispers, as he falls asleep, with you.

THE ARCHITECT: KAVEH ・probably stays at home most of the time, so you're with him most of the time, sleep at the same time together too. he probably has a matching skincare routine with you, like be honest with me if you really wanna be in a relationship with this man you got to share your own skincare routine. ・you don't have one, and don't wanna do one? too bad, he'll force you by doing it himself on you 'till you do it on your own (as a joke, he knows your boundaries, doesn't really mind if you don't have one :), he'll be very happy to share though! ・if he ever does wear suits he wants you to tie the tie on him, (for the cheesy effect), because he doesn't know how (he does, just likes how much better it looks when you do it.), if it ever comes down to it, after he's done a project and finds you waiting since whenever time earlier on the couch, sound asleep, will sleep on your lap, he can barely carry a claymore what makes you think he can carry you to your bedroom (he can, but for the cheesy effect he stays, also because he's lazy),

As his eyes open, he looks up to see his lover, still sleeping, he could get out of bed and go elsewhere to prepare for the morning activities, your pretty face lulls him back to sleep, mumbling something like I love you under his breath.

・if you ever get clothing ripped or destroyed somewhat, he can sew, will do it with joy, you trust him enough that he can patch up your clothing from battle, honestly, any clothing with holes, or what in them, he'll be quick to put it back together, especially your favorites, knows which are your favorites, and what you prefer. likes to do it in the morning way better, if any time later than that, you're gonna have to wait 'till morning, again. ・likes tracing shapes on your back if you both are cuddling, and he big spoons, finds it calming himself, and likes to watch your sleepy expression pleased. ・he doesn't know it yet, but randomly memorizes the little things about you, like it's just implemented in his mind, and doesn't mean to, but when you mention you like something, it will stay in his mind, like taking notes for what you prefer. in bed, he likes to just gaze at you, and you return it, just in silence, admiring each other, so far yet so close, slowly both your eyes go to sleep, in each other's embrace. ・"If I could choose you in every life, I would, and I'm glad I did in this one"

THE FOREST RANGER: TIGHNARI ・barely home, it's for a good reason, most of the time he does surprise you with dates out, and sleeping inside your home, together. he tries his best, but can't sleep that often, forest ranger for a reason, will just watch you most of the night, the times he does get to sleep, is short, can barely sleep a whole 8 hours, likes to be held by you, reminds him of the feeling of home. ・like to scatter kisses around your collarbone when you hold him close, lets you pet his ears, and his tail, you've asked a ton before i bet, he said only in private, the feeling he get whenever you pet his ears gets him feeling weird.. ・likes to admire you when you sleep, and whisper praise into your ears, asleep or not, he doesn't care, he gets stuff off his chest by chatting to you at night, even if you aren't listening because obviously you are sleeping, but if you are, you'd hear all the things he'd be too shy to call you, there are thing he does call you with other people, like petnames, but there are things he prefers much more in private.

A date in the forest wasn't uncommon with Tighnari, picnics are his favorite, and he usually surprises you with it, he blindfolds you, leading you to somewhere, somewhere no one else but him knows, a small place, with a pond decorated with nilotpala lotuses, and other flowers decorating everywhere else, "I hope this is something you love, because I know I do." Taking off your blindfold, light slightly pouring out the hole up above, as the place was a cave like figure, "It's beautiful!" gasping, taking a look at the small picnic he's set up for you and him, "Not as beautiful as you are, because no matter how many languages I study or learn, no word from any language could define your beauty." But all of this was nothing short of a dream he's had of you, as he awakes, all he could think is how lucky he is to have you.

・in the morning, both of you like to water his plants in his botany laboratory where he studies plants, he likes to wake up with you, shower, get up on those days he can be with you ・"If I could, I would bring the universe to you, but for now, all I can do is love you."

the whole time i wrote this i giggled n said these are not drabbles......

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novasway · 1 year

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HER WAY — SULLY FAMILY

hello my loves!! it seems as though a lot of you enjoyed the first part!! so much so that i now wrote a second part to it!! before we get into it i would just like to thank you all for the support and nice messages <33 sadly i cannot respond to comments due to this being a side blog but know that i appreciate you guys sososo much <33 love u sm - nova .

ps : this is very short because i am very tired :(( also not read proof!! and also peep the little scene from my fav podcast ever !!

one , two

IT'S BEEN MONTHS . months since the sky people returned to pandora. months since the raids started and months since ( name ) last saw her family.

" TO THE LEFT! TO THE LEFT! SOMEONE TAKE THAT DAMN TRAIN OFF OF THE RAILS "

" UNCLE TSU'TEY I WANT TO SEE THOSE HELICOPTERS GONE! "

" YOU GOT IT! "

that was a normal day for ( name ) now, riding her ikran into battle every few days in order to protect her people. she no longer was the little girl that would once run around in the forests of pandora, she was now the olo'eyktan, the fate of the omaticaya was in her hands and she was determined to bring them to victory once more.

or so was the plan.

" olo'eyktan ( name )! " a hurried voice called out towards the young woman.

" lu'ìkx. what's wrong? you seem to be in a hurry? "

" i see you, olo'eyktan . " the warrior greeted the woman before continuing. " i do not mean to panic you, but u'är and veinnì found this while patrolling, we think that this might be an issue that you and your uncle should talk about. " he said, handing her a piece of paper.

" i see, well thank you lu'ìkx, i shall discuss this with my uncle, you're dismissed now. "

" uncle i cannot — you! cannot ask this of me. i will not. "

" ( name ), i understand, truly i do! but i cannot risk to lose you, i know yes, you're finally olo'eyktan but i'd rather you have no title than no life. " sighed tsu'tey . " i know that the thought of leaving breaks you but please listen to your old man for once. "

" ... "

" ( name ) please. you read the paper, they want to kill you, they won't stop until you aren't standing anymore so please follow your family, go to the reef and just forget about this place for a while. "

" .. if i leave now i will be able to join my family ... if i don't leave now i will be able to still protect my people, my people are very dear to me — "

" dearer than your family? "

" no ... not dearer than them. never dearer than them."

"there you go, that's your answer. go and prepare, you will be leaving in the morning. "

with a heavy heart ( name ) takes one more look at the forest before going to her tent. the gentle breeze and delicate smells caressing her skin. the forest was all she knew, it was her home, her sanctuary, she vowed to protect it with her all and now her promise will be broken.

' oh eywa please forgive me for this is not the way you gave me, please great mother forgive me for not being able to protect your creation. '

the morning came with heart breaking news for the omaticayans, yet another treasured member was leaving.

yet another olo'eyktan was leaving and with that the last sully was gone as well. with one last glance ( name ) got on her ikran and started her journey towards the reef.

the journey was a rough one, heavy rains and cold winds that made them almost crash or the hot sun burning at her blue skin during the day seemed to discourage her second by second.

being alone made her realize how awful it was not hearing lo'ak and neteyam's banter, or jake's stories from back on earth or tuk asking the most random questions. she wonders why only now her brain decides to remind her of such times. perhaps during the time that she spent in the forest fighting she didn't have time to catch a break and think everything through.

no matter the cause, ( name ) straightened her back and continued to fly towards her destination. she would get to be reunited with her family soon.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #jake sully #kiri sully #sully family #neytiri #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader

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escha-evenstar · 7 months

Text

Sweet Spaghetti

Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x GN!Reader

Summary: You share a spaghetti with Azul on your date.

Word Count: 900+

Notes:

Tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible (I hope I did it right).

Reader is described to be gorgeous by Azul.

EDIT: Reader also described as pretty and cute by Azul.

A/N:

Inspired from this scene from the Lady and the Tramp! Not the same exactly in this writing but quite similar, I think. Also, as I mentioned in my previous writing, it is my birth month. And I had spaghetti for my birthday soooo hehe~ Of course I'd want to share a spaghetti meal with Azul! 🩷

Also, I'm not sure about the title, but I can't think of anything else haha

Enjoy your Sweet Spaghetti! *wink*

You were sitting inside a fancy restaurant, dressed in fine clothing, as you conversed with the man opposite of you. He was also wearing a formal attire. The suit complemented his silvery hair and matched with his blue eyes.

You didn't realize you were starting to stare. Your hand, which was holding a fork, froze in place as your eyes continued to gaze at him.

He was looking incredibly handsome tonight. Absolutely perfect.

You were suddenly broken out of your daze as Azul called out to you. "Sweetheart?"

"Y-yes?" You stuttered, eyes blinking back to reality.

Azul chuckled at your response. "I was asking for your thoughts."

"Thoughts?" You feel some heat rise to your cheeks as you recalled your most recent ones, where you were just thinking how attractive he was in his new suit.

"What thoughts?" You asked nervously.

"About the food, specifically this pasta dish. You said you were looking forward to this the most," he said.

"Oh! Yes, yes I was," you laughed as you mentally sighed with relief. "I really like how it tastes. The grated cheese blends really well with the sweet tomato sauce and you don't get tired of the pasta because the meat and the mushroom mixed with the sauce brings out a harmonious flavor. It's really, really delicious!"

Your words elicited a smile from Azul. "I'm glad. Maybe I should take note of this and make some recipe changes at Mostro Lounge."

You giggled at his response as you brought your fork to your mouth and continued to eat the spaghetti. There were a few seconds of silence before Azul spoke again.

"Ah! There is something I'd like to ask you, sweetheart." He placed his elbows on top of the table as his chin settled on top of his clasped hands.

"What is it?" You asked after swallowing down your food. As you looked at him, you noticed how his eyes have a mischievous glint in them.

Please don't tell me he noticed.

"I am rather curious as to why you were staring so hard at me earlier." A smirk evident on his face.

He knows.

A blush adorned your cheeks as you averted your eyes away from him.

"Uhm, well.."

"Well?" He hummed teasingly, his signature smirk never leaving his face.

"I know I already said it earlier but," you turned to stare directly into his blue eyes while still blushing. "You look really handsome, Azul."

The way you said it so sincerely with that lovestruck look in your eyes and that shy, but lovely smile of yours had Azul blushing. He couldn't help but adjust his glasses, an attempt to hide the crimson hue dusting his cheeks.

"Ah, that's.." You definitely caught him off guard with your straightforward answer. He coughed into his hand as he composed himself. "I am truly flattered. Thank you for the compliment, my dear." Azul flashed you a smile, a genuine one.

"And I must say again," he continued as he took hold of your hand. "You look gorgeous, sweetheart. Absolutely gorgeous as always." His eyes never left yours as he gently brought your hand to his lips.

Oh, how your heart melted.

"Azul~" You cupped your cheek with your free hand as you looked away from him once more, feeling bashful, as your blush intensified.

Azul felt a swell of pride within him to be able to draw out such a cute reaction from you. All because of him. He chuckled at your pretty and cute self as he squeezed your hand. This caused you to look back at him, and you could see the warm, loving gaze in his eyes as he smiled at you softly. You returned his smile with your own as you squeezed his hand back.

Afterwards, the two of you resumed eating while engaging in pleasant conversations. It was a light hearted moment.

As you brought another fork of spaghetti into your mouth, you noticed how one strand was longer than the rest. You leaned forward against the table, following that one strand of pasta, only to come close to your lover's face. The other end was in his mouth.

The two of you were frozen, eyes staring at each other.

It was like you were in Pocky game, except instead of a Pocky stick, you had a single strand of pasta connecting the two of you.

You still didn't move, but Azul did.

His eyes fluttered down to your lips before closing the distance, biting on the strand, and giving you a soft, tender kiss.

Your eyes flew shut as you savored the sweet moment. It made your heart race and your mind blank except for the feeling of his lips on your own.

The kiss lasted a few seconds before he pulled away from you.

"You were right," said Azul.

"Huh?" Your eyes blinked in confusion.

"I didn't get to say it earlier but the spaghetti is indeed quite.. delicious." He caressed your cheek gently before holding your chin between his fingers, his thumb grazing your lower lip. "Especially from your lips."

You were positive your face was as red as the sweet spaghetti sauce.

"Maybe I should have some more." His voice was low and suggestive, a teasing smile on his face.

You were definitely a blushing mess right now as your heart thumped loudly inside your chest.

His smooth words and suave actions tugged greatly at your heartstrings.

All because of a single strand of sweet spaghetti.

..but that doesn't mean you didn't like it.

#azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #escha writes🩷

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astvrook · 11 months

Text

krizis | yang jungwon

genre/au: yandere x reader.

Jungwon was an understatement within the mafia led by Fuma, as he needed support to take down several empires, and Jungwon didn't have the means to refuse, despite youth.

He wasn't always a dull, restless, hard-to-please guy until he met you, and then the adrenaline hit him like a tsunami.

His face completely impacted by you, by your nakedness, and he was in need of some kind of relief.

Your laughter was for him. This man loved to see his girlfriend laugh. It was like a drug for his arousal, and he dragged you into his world.

"First you seduce me, then you tease me, and then what, peaches? We play. I want to give you everything in every way, you can explore me and taste whatever you want from me."

Jungwon's kneecaps crackle underground as he crawls toward you.

He betrayed his gang to have a better life with you. Perhaps someday he'll learn not to be so greedy, but he can't make you think about quitting. Yet Jungwon's chest hurt, his face, his hands... his broken knee.

You wanted to spare Jungwon all the pain, even the pain he caused himself.

On a human being, the previous beatings might knock him unconscious for days. But this wasn't a typical man, though an inner pain is etched in the fine lines around his feline eyes.

As you got closer to Jungwon, one could notice the irregular movements of his breathing, which betrayed his agony. Her pupils were dilated, but there wasn't a single tear on her face.

Jungwon believes that if he shows no emotions and wears his determination like armor, he will be stronger. Nobody can hurt him. He felt so lonely.

Fuma, Nicholas, Harua and you have always taken care of him and this is the first time they are gone. How many people will stay by your side if you betray them? Neither.

"It was the two of us or them, (y/n). That was the only way. But I did questionable things to give you the life you deserve." "My heart hurts so much more. Just know that I'll be here when you come back. It'll be my last letter, promise, (y/n)."

You assumed Jungwon dead that day, but his eyes flutter behind you.

Did he flee from his grave? He seems more grown up than when you abandoned him to survive five years ago. But now he seems immortal and more beautiful than any corpse should be.

Your stomach churns, and fear strikes your sternum.

Wasn't the violence, the sleeplessness, the interrogations, the screams, the beatings, the blood, the deaths, the accusations and the tortures too much for him? Was what too much for Jungwon?

However, he was a blank canvas. Empty.

"You're all barking. I know your type already, Jungwon." "You're my biggest enemy now, (y/n) I'll gain sick fulfillment by making you suffer without you knowing when and how I'll cut you with my blade."

Had Jungwon had a heart left and not something rotten in its place, he would probably have some sympathy for you. You were his light. Or so he thought.

For five years you were a sword that always cut when Jungwon bled again, you were the sword that turned on him, and he doesn't know how to dodge the edge.

It's above you, the surrounding air darkens and swirls. The temptation is a cursed thing whose mouth touches your cheeks, jaws and lips, but had the power to create you and break you.

"Betrayed you, (y/n) but I'd never leave you! Wouldn't forget you, either. Really loved you, but I couldn't give you enough, and seeing you here is killing me, baby. "

Jungwon assumed that the moment they met was the moment of luck.

He had betrayed them all to improve his position. By now, along with allied clans like Lee Heeseung and Park Sunghoon, he was the leader in command, all for access to higher circles.

More proof that the mafia may not have been an environment conducive to healthy love.

Punches, shouts, gunshots and your friends fall to the ground along with all your resources. Jungwon's dark tresses, as well as his blood-stained eyes, became the images that haunt your nightmares.

"You are the last locker, (y/n) I won't lose the key. The burden of your memories always weighed on me, and I broke all the rules of this world because of you. You may change the punishment for us, but I never lose, peaches." "Won't you come with me? I'll make sure you have a good time, (y/n)."

ENHYPEN MASTERLIST.

#yandere enha #yandere enhypen #yandere jungwon #yangjungwon #enhypen mafia #enhypen x reader #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x female reader #junwon x reader

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missmagooglie · 5 days

Text

Prefacing this by saying this is not what I EXPECT to happen in 7x09 and 7x10, it's just one specific scenario that I feel particularly feral about right now... so with that said, I'm gonna throw out a dream scenario for the end of S7:

Tommy and Buck are dating and it's going well. Buck is just sort of blossoming in his new identity as a queer man. There's a self-confidence and assuredness to him that we haven't seen before

Meanwhile, Eddie has broken things off with Marisol and is quietly going through his own reevaluation of his sexuality. His awareness of his queerness happens pretty simultaneously with his realization that the way he loves Buck isn't entirely platonic, but he keeps it to himself because Buck is happy with Tommy

Episode 9 finds Eddie and Buck together off duty. Maybe they're having an argument. Maybe on the surface they're arguing about something small but somehow it feels much bigger

Mid-argument some emergency strikes. Buck and Eddie are trapped together and it's BAD. They're both in mortal peril, but it's worse for Eddie. Eddie hopes help will arrive in time to save Buck, but he's pretty sure he won't be alive to see it

(And I just want to stress - I feel like it's essential that they are off duty when this happens. They are in sync on the job, it's how they fit together outside of the job they're still figuring out)

So Eddie gets Buck's attention - because Buck hasn't given up yet. He won't. He CAN'T. He's frantically searching for solutions as Eddie repeats his name in a weakened voice, until finally he cracks and says, "Evan, please. I need you to hear this."

And in the final seconds of episode nine, Eddie Diaz looks Evan Buckley dead in the eye and tells him, "I love you"

Episode ten opens on an unrelated disaster, just to keep us gnashing our teeth a little longer

Maybe we throw some flashbacks in there for good measure

Check in on the rest of the firefam frantically trying to coordinate a rescue effort

But FINALLY they cut back to Buck and Eddie in mortal danger and replay the last few moments of episode 9. And believing these are the last words he'll ever say, Eddie tells Buck how much he loves him. He says he's sorry he realized it too late, but he could never, never regret loving him

Somehow there's a callback reference to Mitchell and Thomas, and the way Buck looked at their clasped hands as they died, and Buck realizing that dying together was never the point of their story. Living together was

And Buck is full sobbing and begging him not to give up yet because Christopher needs him and the team needs him and finally saying "and I need you, Eddie. You can't leave me. You can't-"

We get the sense that Buck is on the cusp of a love confession of his own, but before he gets the words out he's cut off by the sound of helicopter blades overhead.

Their miracle rescue arrives in time, led by none other than Buck's starting-to-be-something-serious boyfriend Tommy

After the rescue, we see Eddie in the back of the ambulance, stable and out of danger, and Buck's about to go over to him but Tommy comes running over and sweeps Buck up in his arms and kisses his temple and says, "thank god you're ok. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you"

And Buck lets himself be held, but his attention is over Tommy's shoulder looking at Eddie

Eddie, who's gonna be ok

Eddie, who loves him

Eddie, who is the absolute center of Buck's world, but Buck has never allowed himself to think of That Way

And Eddie meets Buck's eye over Tommy's shoulder and gives him a sad smile that lets Buck know he intends to go back to quietly loving Buck at just a little bit of a distance so that Buck can be happy with someone else

And just to really twist the knife, we get an overheard piece of dialogue in which Eddie refers to Buck as his "best friend" for the literal first time ever (I'm pretty sure? Up til now, any time the "best friend" label has been used it's been by Buck, but please correct me if I'm wrong.)

And the season ends there

Cue the entire fandom going APESHIT for the entirety of the summer hiatus

#911 #911 speculation #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #how do i fanfiction?#911 spec fic #tommy kinard #bi buck #queer buck #queer eddie diaz #tommybuck #tuck #kinkley #tevan #<- I'll tag it but I hate it #(the ship name not the ship)#eddie x buck

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scekrex · 19 days

Note

Prompt for Adam x reader !!(male ofc)

Don't really know how to go into big details about this, but y'know how in your NSFW fics Adam and the reader have this "red light green light" system? where one asks the other a color and if they say green then they're good to go? yeahbb

Maybe a situation where the reader says red? Like where they need to stop? (Maybe from it being too rough and it hurting? but not the good kind of hurt..) so it's like NSFW but turns into fluff!! (Also because I wanna see how Adam handles aftercare..)

anyway thank you, last night I read like ALL of your Adam fics im so SRS!! 😞😞😞 I love ur writing sm!!

(I'd add a silly Adam image but idfk how asks work so ...)

Okay so I feel like Adam would suck at providing comfort and aftercare in a verbal way, he just doesn't have the words to guide you through it verbally, so he does it physically. I hope ya like it xoxo/p

This hurts me like Heaven

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, anal sex (in the beginning)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Adam pounded into you, rough, quick, there was no thought behind his eyes, not a single one that didn't scream ‘pleasure him, pleasure yourself’. His nails had broken the skin stretched over your hip bones a while ago, you didn't remember when, you were too zoned out. There was no mercy, not a single break and usually that was just fine by you, today though, today it very much wasn't. Why? You weren't quite sure yourself, it felt more painful, more intense, just more. In the most negative way possible.

The sound of his balls slapping against your ass over and over again which you normally liked, which normally came with pleasure and desire felt now bittersweet, you were enjoying it - well, you had been. Until it got too much. When that point had been reached you didn't remember, you had zoned out when the pain became too overwhelming at first, you had thought it would go away eventually. It didn't. It became unbearable, too painful, too quick.

“Stop,” you cried out as your face scrunched up in pain and you tried to pull your body away from the uncomfortable feeling that was causing many things but most definitely not pleasure. “Adam, stop,” you whined again, yet the man on top of you didn't stop and you couldn't blame him, stop never meant stop, stop usually meant ‘keep going’, ‘please, more' and ‘this feels good'. And given the pleasuring high the first man must've been on, you couldn't be mad at him for not recognizing your discomfort. He was too caught up in his own feelings, his own pleasure and your words didn't really indicate that you seriously wanted to stop and while your tone was filled with pain, it was also soaked with lust that started to wear off.

“Adam, red,” that got the brunette to stop immediately, he stared down at you as the clouds lifted from his golden eyes and his vision seemed to clear from the foggy lust that had occupied his mind. His confused frown shifted to something softer as he was quick to pull out of you yet gentle when he lifted your legs from his shoulders. Yes, there was a code word for when it got too much, but neither of you had ever used it before so the first man was quite overwhelmed on how he was supposed to handle the situation - the fact that he was still as hard as you were, was completely forgotten. “Are you-” he didn't finish the question, too afraid of your answer, too afraid that he had fucked up, that you would leave like everyone else had done. His mind was telling him that this was it - you had called out red and now you were never to have sex with him again. The look on his face said it all and you didn't like it, that's why you had code words, that's why you had red as a safe word. It was not like you had cried out red and he had continued to hurt you, no, the exact opposite was the case so why was he feeling bad? Well, simply because deep down inside, this man was very insecure.

You grabbed him by his neck and pulled him down, you felt how his arms and legs gave out and how he simply let himself collapse on top of you - that position didn't last long though, he was quick to roll himself over so that you were the one laying on his chest instead of the other way around. It eased the pain a little, the comfort your partner was providing felt like fluffy clouds that filled your brain, like a high that only Adam could give you, a high that took all the worries you had and threw ‘em away for as long as he held you. “You did fucking well, babes,” he hummed softly as he buried his face in your hair and wrapped his wings around you like a secure blanket that not only gave you comfort, but also pulled him closer against Adam's chest. “Did so fucking amazing by telling me that,” he added quickly, a soft kiss was pressed against the top of your head and you closed your eyes for a moment. The pain still lingered heavy in your body, the pain and the shock equally. You didn't move, couldn't move, but you embraced the warmth Adam offered so dearly. “I-” the word was barely audible, so quietly spoken that even you missed it, only Adam knew it had been spoken at all, a quick, “Fuck,” followed. You felt his body trembling, felt how his grip on you tightened, how he pulled you closer to his chest. He hadn't meant to hurt you, hadn't meant for it to go as far as it did. He knew you would brush it off later, and would tell him that that was what safe words are there for, but to Adam it was different. To him this meant that he had screwed up, that he had ignored your body language and had continued anyway even though your discomfort had been very visible. And yet this wasn't about you comforting him because of his overthinking, this was about him comforting you because he overstepped. And fuck, he was bad at providing comfort. Talking you through it he could technically do but his words failed him, they always did when it came to offering you comfort. He wasn't good with words, never had been.

So instead, he provided comfort with his actions, he kept you close, your head rested on his chest, you looked stressed and peaceful at the same time and while Adam thought it looked cute, it also made him worry. Your breathing was steady though, so that was one good thing. Your body was slowly calming down. Good, that was good. His wings remained wrapped around your body, your own wings had done the same thing, they had come up to wrap around you, to shield you away. One of the first man's hands gently petted the soft feathers of your wings as he started to hum a soothing tune. Oh how you loved that tune he hummed. His other hand traced the little gap between your wings on your back up and down, leaving his scent all over you.

Slowly your wings withdrew, exposing your body to Adam as he continued to hum that certain tune you enjoyed so much, when your eyes met his, it was love that looked down on you, non-verbal but love. You offered him a small and weak looking smile, that smile was met by an unsure one. You snuggled against his chest without a word being spoken, letting him know that you were okay for as long as he would hold you, so he continued to do so.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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saltsicklover · 8 months

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Slamming Doors - BRB - Broken House

This was written as a oneshot but I have an idea on how to expand the story if there is interest for it! Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you!

Title: Slamming Doors

Series: Broken House

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2700+

Rating: R

Warnings: Talks of death, sick parent, car crash, pet names, lots of crying, lots of yelling, ANGST, misunderstandings.

Doors aren't meant to raddle on their hinges. Doors aren't meant to be slammed that hard.

Honey like to think it's always better to be on the in swing of the door, rather than on the out swing.

If she is on the in swing, Bradley would be storming in. It is like this often, the picture frame hung next to the door perpetually crooked from how often that damn front door is slammed. The corners of that frame are even chipped from the time or two it hit the tile floor.

At least, if he is coming home, she has a chance to calm him down. To take his face in her hands and comfort the man she loves. To kiss his lips and agree that the Captain is a dumbass who doesn't have a damn clue about how to do his job. She is always there to comfort him, to take the weight of the day off of his shoulders when things have been bad.

Hell, it isn't even always bad. Sometimes, maybe more often than sometimes, Hangman or Phoenix would be toting Bradley in, his arm held tightly over their shoulder, and he would drunkenly kick the door shut, the front of the house rattling with the abrupt closure. He would slur his words and hiccup, but always be happy to leave his friend's arms the moment he spots her.

It is different now, though.

Now, Honey is on the out swing. Bradley has her walking out after a fight, too heated to work it out.

The front door slams again, the picture frame rattling lightly against the wall. Bradley walks into the living room before dropping his duffle bag in front of the couch. It is filthy, he is filthy. The arms of his flight suit are tied low on his hips, his white t-shirt completely stained with grease and gear lubricant. It looks angry, deep brown and jet black against the stark white of the cotton. Days like this, Honey would be in his arms as soon as his bag hits the floor, but today is different.

Honey stands on the other side of the room, her back to her lover.

Bradley and Honey are somewhere between whole heartedly committed and casual. She practically lives in his small home with him when he isn't away on deployment and there to take care of his plants when he is. It has been this way for almost two years, a little house right down the road from the beach in Pensacola.

NAS Pensacola isn't home to Bradley, and Florida isn't home to either of them. They met by happenstance, both stranded in a storm at a little bar-motel in Maryland. He was there for work, she was there trying to track down information on her father. One drink turned into three, one night turned into a long weekend, and the two have been intertwined ever since. Honey followed him to Florida, still on her search for her father, who she never called by name. She'd said it was too painful and she wasn't ready to talk about him until she could talk to him. They hadn't intended on dating, and Honey had intended on getting the information she was looking for and then be moving on. But they had to go and fall in love.

"Honey?" Bradley finally looks up at her, taking in the slump of she shoulders. The whole energy in the house wrong. There is no candle burning on the coffee table, the blinds aren't open to let the sun in, and Honey hadn't found her way into his arms yet. Something is most definitely wrong.

He bends down to untie his boots as he waits for his lover to answer his call. She doesn't move to turn around, nor does she say a word. Her eyes are locked on the photo of Bradley and Nick, his father, that is hanging up on the wall. In it, Bradley sits atop Nick's shoulders, both wearing grins so big she could practically see the ache in their cheeks. Her eyes trace over the frame, then Bradley, down to Nick, then back up again to repeat the process. Honey has been standing there, eyes glued to the photo for the better part of the last hour.

Before she found herself in front of the photograph on the wall, she had been staring at the photo in her hand for much too long. She has been holding it so long that there are fingerprints on the glossy side of the photo, both in full and partial prints not kept to the edges.

Honey had been dusting the mantle earlier that afternoon, her body poised on a stepstool to get the shelves above the fireplace too. As she was cleaning, she bumped a framed photograph of Bradley and his mother, Carole, posed together on his High School graduation, shortly before she had passed away. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his frame, partly out of love, partly to keep herself standing upright. She had insisted on standing for the photo, even though Bradley wanted her to stay in her wheelchair.

Bradley had told Honey about his mother so many times before. He loved showing her the photographs and telling her stories. He is so proud of his parents; but Honey knew he was a Mama's boy. That was likely because she was the only parent he had for a majority of his life, between deployments and his father's untimely passing.

The relationship he had with his Mother was special. It was something that allowed Bradley and Honey to bond over when they first began dating. Her father walked out on her and her Mother before she had her first birthday. Honey was a Mama's girl too- her Mother passed away five years prior due to a driving accident. Black ice in the middle of winter was no joke, and Honey's mother should not have been out driving in the first place.

Both effectively orphans, the pair bonded quickly. Lack of family tended to do that to people.

Bradley tired to get Honey to talk about her father, to share just a little bit of information about him. All he ever managed to learn was his Navy association. He grimaced when he found out, knowing just how many deadbeats there are in the Military.

After Honey had knocked the photograph off the shelf with her elbow, it hit the floor and shattered. It took her ages to clean up the glass, and she even managed to save the photo of Bradley and his mother from being ruined. What she was not expecting was the photograph hidden behind it.

In her hand, she clutches a photo of Pete Mitchell and Bradley at his high school graduation, both smiling and happy. Bradley has the hope for his whole future in his eyes, that much is clear enough to see. Pete has an arm around Bradley, pulling him close as he holds a photo of Nick in his other hand.

The photograph lead her to where she stands now, unwavering in her place, even as Bradley calls her name again.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Bradley crosses the room, his untied shoelaces hitting against his boots with small clinks from the plastic aglets. He reaches a hand out to her, gently pulling her hair over her shoulder. "Honey?"

She turns to him, eyes glassy. The sight of Bradley swims, tears distorting her vision. Her cheeks are red, like she has been straining to hold back her tears. Quickly, he eyes the rest of her form, taking her in in her entirety, trying to pinpoint her distress. His eyes land on the photo she has creased in hand. Gently, he takes the photo from her hand before pulling her into his chest.

The grease smeared shirt across his chest becomes a home for a lose tear as he brings her into his frame, her face pressing into the expanse of his chest, near his shoulder.

"I broke a frame while I was cleaning," Honey begins, her voice so quiet he almost misses it, "I'm sorry, Bradley,"

"Oh, Honey," Bradley coos lightly, "You don't have to be sorry, it's okay. The frame can be replaced, no need to be upset, Sweet Girl,"

Honey sniffles against his chest, bringing a hand up to try and brush a tear from the fullness of her cheek. She almost chides him for thinking she would be upset over something so small, but she can't find it in her to make the joke out loud.

Bradley smiles to himself, thinking about how caring his girl is, but the smile immediately disappears as he looks at the photo he had taken from her moments before. This is not the photo that was on display. Bradley would never have a photo of Maverick up in his house, not after the older man pulled his papers for the academy. Absolutely not.

"Honey," Bradley pulls back, his eyes glued on the photo, "Where did you get this?"

"It was in the back of the frame- behind the- behind the photo of you and your Mom," She hiccups through the sentence, anxiety rising up in her chest again. The taste of bile is sour on her tongue as she looks over Bradley's expression. His brows are furrowed, eyes narrow and angry as he locks eyes with the photograph.

"Who is that?" Honey asks, even though she already knows.

"Pete Mitchell," Bradley's voice is laced with so much venom it gives her goosebumps. She raises her eyebrows but Bradley doesn't need prompting to continue. "He flew with my Dad, was the reason for his accident. If they didn't have to eject, my father would still be here today. And then, when I applied for the Academy, he derailed my career by years when he pulled my papers. I haven't spoken to him since,"

A noncommittal hum is the only thing Honey can muster in response. Honey can feel her skin flush hot and cold but tries to push the feeling aside.

"I need to talk to you about something," Honey's words sound heavy coming off of her tongue. The tone snaps Bradley's eyes right up to her, the picture being abandoned on the coffee table.

"What is it?"

There are so many things Honey wants to say. She wants to plead for Bradley to tell her everything he knows about Maverick. There is a part of her, deep inside, that is still eight years old, still the same little girl who realized for the first time that her father wasn't coming back not because he couldn't but because he didn't want to.

Honey wants to tell Bradley that Maverick is her father, to explain that the man standing next to him, clad in a leather jacket and dark washed jeans is her father. The man who didn't want her. She wants to bond over their appeared shared hatred of the man. Honey wants to curse his name and burn every photo of him that the two are in possession of. She wants to say fuck you to Pete Mitchell all together, with the man she loves by her side.

But instead, the words that leave her mouth are much, much worse.

"You can't talk about your father anymore,"

The words aren't tactful, but they aren't exactly a lie either. She has always had a hard time listening to Bradley talk about Nick. There has always been something so fucking bitter inside of her whenever he would talk about him. The knowledge that her father is a Naval Aviator, just as Bradley's had been was just too close for comfort for her. But now? Knowing that the stories of his father are also stories of her father. That broke her.

"Excuse me?"

The statement catches Bradley off guard so much he almost feels dizzy. If it weren't for the clunky air conditioning unit in the window behind Honey humming away, he might've blamed the feeling on stifling Floridian humidity. But, unfortunately for them both, he heard her correctly.

"That's not what I meant! Shit!" Honey starts, but Bradley's expression doesn't turn any more pleasant.

"I mean, fuck, I can't listen to you talk about your father anymore!" That sentence isn't any better. Honey can hear her own blood rushing through her ears, the same way she can feel the heat rising to her face with it.

"What?"

The venom is back in Bradley's voice, anger is beginning to boil behind the color in his eyes. Suddenly Honey wishes she could rewind time, just two fucking minutes.

If there is one thing for sure, Honey may just be fragile like that picture frame, but Bradley is fragile like a bomb.

Bradley's fists ball at his sides, knuckles going white as he squeezes them tight. Honey can't take her eyes from his face, from the vein that bulges in the side of his neck. She notices how his lip curls forward, his mustache sloping downward with his frown.

"I just-" Honey takes a deep breath; it's ragged as it goes in and back out, catching on the broken pieces of her heart, "I can't have flashbacks from memories that aren't mine- I can't have this image in my mind of a man that I didn't know,"

Bradley is fuming now, listening to the words as they come out of his lover's mouth. He already had a shit day, having come down on new assignment back to TOP GUN. He didn't want to tell Honey, worried about what she might say. Worried that she might not pack up her life and go with him, or worse, that she wouldn't be here waiting for him to come back.

Honey isn't explaining herself well, but he doesn't know that, nor can he calm down enough to figure out exactly what she is talking about. At face value, she is bad mouthing his father, the great Nick Bradshaw, mother Goose, and Bradley won't stand for that. He misses the words coming out of her mouth and the new tears that have made their way down her cheeks.

"Shut up!" Bradley yells, his hands coming up to grip tightly in his hair. The words cut Honey off mid-sentence, and she obeys the command, more out of stunned compliance than choice.

"Brad-"

"No!" He points a finger right into her face, anger fully taking him over. He hasn't been this angry since Mav pulled his papers, the almost forgotten feeling burning beneath his skin. Honey's lip quivers, but she pulls it into her mouth, between her teeth to keep him from seeing it. "You do not get to stand here, in my house, and talk shit about my father!"

"No! Brad-" Honey holds out her hands, pleading for him to just listen, for just one second. Just long enough for her to get this mess of a miscommunication figured out.

"Enough!" Bradley's voice practically shakes the room, "Get out!"

"What?" Honey's voice is so unbelievably small now, like she doesn't trust herself to speak.

"Get. Out. Now." Bradley can barely look at her. Honey knows when she has lost a fight. So, she moves past him, grabbing her purse from the couch on her way past. She makes it to the door, her hand still on the handle before she speaks one last time.

"You like to think you are so much like your father, all good heart and good man, but in reality, you are just like mine,"

Honey slams the door behind her, the sound echoing though the house. She doesn't stop long enough to hear the picture frame fall from it's place on the wall, the glass shattering against the tile.

There is too much left unsaid, the words that made it out taken to far and just wrong. Nick was the kind of man she always wished her father would have been. Kind, good, loving. And when she didn't find that in her own father, she found it in Bradley instead. Bradley liked to say that his father would have loved her, enough for both himself and her father combined, and she believed it too. But now, as she walks away from Bradley, she can't help but know just how disappointed Nick would be in her.

Because, doors aren't meant to raddle on their hinges. Doors aren't meant to be slammed that hard. And now, Honey knows exactly just how much better things are on the in swing of that front door.

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster top gun angst #bradley rooster bradshaw angst #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick angst #slamming doors

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hollandsfavbabe · 4 months

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Where Do We Go Now

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which the death of y/n's father leaves her determined to bring him back and her boyfriend peter determined to save her

warnings: endgame aftermath, death, parental loss, isolation, suicide attempt (but magical?), it gets better - I promise

word count: 7.1k

masterlist

a/n: Hey guys. This is going to be a bit longer than my usual notes, but I feel like I should explain why I've been gone for so long and why this story is a lot sadder than my usual ones. My community has been riddled with tragedy recently as we've lost a lot of people to suicide this past year, some of which have been as young as middle school age. One of my friends died by suicide a couple months ago. I can't express to you guys how hard it's been trying to deal with the pain and the guilt his death has caused me and my loved ones. So many days have passed where I wish I could've been a better friend for him while he was here. It hurts more knowing that other people are hurting too. Writing this was the best way for me to cope for many reasons. I wanted to write about how I'm feeling and honor my friend in some way even if it's through a silly little fanfiction. I know I'm late, but I also wanted to honor one of my favorite characters, Tony Stark as he canonically died this past October. That being said, if you are struggling please, I implore you, talk to someone. There are so many people on this planet who would be so torn without you. My dms are always a safe space if you need anything at all <3

Also I'd like to thank Gracie Abrams for her music that I had on repeat the entire time I was writing this. I hope you like it!

“I am Iron Man.”

The words replayed in your head, over and over like a broken record with no one to turn it to a new tune. That’s exactly how you felt. So alone in your grief that even if miraculously every wish you'd ever made in the whole of your existence had been granted, it still wouldn’t be enough to make you happy again. To make you feel anything besides the constant regret and incessant grief that anchored you down as you wasted away in your bed.

It had been exactly a week since the passing of the great Tony Stark. Everyone else in the compound had mourned their coworker, riddled by a somewhat lesser version of your sadness for only a few days after his death. It’s not as if their grief had been washed away as if it never stained their cheeks with tears or weighed down their hearts with sorrow, but it eased much quicker than yours and before long they could continue their duties. Everything was so much harder for you because Tony hadn’t just been a coworker. He was your father.

You relieved every memory you had of him like bittersweet torture. You remembered when he held you as a little girl, wiping up a bloodied knee. When he discovered you had powers and helped you control them. Later on when he banned you from joining in on the Avenger’s Civil War and afterwards when he thanked you for sneaking in to help anyway. You could almost feel his comforting embrace as if it was only yesterday that he was assuring you before a failed battle against the mad Titan Thanos, the same one that left you dusted and missing your father’s last five years on Earth. And finally, of course, you remember his last moments all too well. It played out before you like the tragic ending of a stage play.

“Let me do it,” you shouted over the sound of war cries and carnage that surrounded you on the packed battlefield. “I can take it!”

You were almost certain that your power, your immeasurable magic, could handle the debilitating strength of the Infinity Stones making you the most reasonable choice for snapping Thanos and his army out of existence, but your father refused to risk losing his eldest.

“No,” he breathed, the metal plate shielding his chest rising and falling from the heat of the action. There was only one way to succeed, only one way to put a stop to the destruction of the universe. It had to be him. “I won’t risk losing you, not while you’re still so young. You have so much life ahead of you.”

“Not without you!” you cried, a tear streaming from your eye.

There wasn’t much time for your conversation as the world was moments away from being wiped of its human history, but despite the odds your father pulled you into a tight hug, as if he knew it would be the last. You both did.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known and I’m so proud of what you’ve become already.” he smiled when you finally pulled apart.

“I need you dad,” you sobbed, still reluctant to let him leave you. With the threat of his death, suddenly Thanos’ defeat didn’t matter anymore. Not nearly as much as having your father by your side. “I’m not ready.”

Your dad looked down on you with the saddest of smiles, but if any part of him was upset about his decision, he made no other hint toward it. He just held you close for as long as possible and comforted you in the way that you could always count on him for. In the way, it hit you, that you could never count on him for again. But yet, in the face of death, he cradled you close and spoke in his signature fatherly tone: assertive yet on the edge of softness.

“No one’s ever ready -,” he answered truthfully. “- but I know you can handle it. You always do.”

You looked up at him as he finally pulled away and headed towards the purple giant, but not before turning to you for one final declaration.

“I love you, junior, to the edge and back again.”

And then he was gone. You never got the chance to say it back.

Yours was the last name he uttered before his heart stopped beating and the light on his suit went out. By then Pepper had already said her goodbyes and you both were huddled close to his body, weeping as the other Avengers knelt around you in honor of your father. Peter was hunched behind you, one hand on your shoulder while the other worked to wipe away his own tears. Oh Peter, you had your father to thank for him.

It was Tony who was credited with setting you up with your long term boyfriend, Peter Parker, even if it was a complete accident. You two had gotten acquainted on a fateful plane ride to Germany and eventually ended up together after many failed attempts at confessing your feelings. There was something about him that had you smitten with him from your first encounter, your liking only strengthened when you learned that your father approved. He’d been with you through thick and thin and even now, Peter was the only person who could even remotely share your pain besides Pepper. Tony was like his father too.

He’d taken care of you ever since the incident. Brought you food and water, helped you dress in your black attire for the funeral, laid with you in your bed each night to calm you whenever you awoke in a nightmarish terror. He showed his love for you prevailing over his grief in the most selfless of ways and yet all you had managed to do since you father’s funeral was stand to use the restroom every once in a while. It piled on more weight that your poor soul could already take. You were nothing, but a miserable burden now.

The door to your room opened with squealing hinges as Peter stepped in, returning from school where he had spent the morning reuniting with your shared friends and finding out when the official return date was. You were supposed to join him, but instead you hadn’t moved an inch since he left. It wasn’t as if you wanted to waste the entire day in your lonely sheets again. You yearned for everything to go back to how it was; when Peter was happy and you could share it with him. When your father used to smile upon the two teens he didn’t mean to bring together. When your father was alive.

“Hey,” he said, softly as if not to startle you from your endless torturous pondering. He set something down on your dresser, a small stack of papers he must have gathered from the school, and removed his fall coat before sauntering over to you. The bed creaked and shifted under his weight as he took a seat next to you. “Good news, we don’t have to go back until the next semester so we get a break until January. Ned was asking about you. He wants to know how you’re doing.”

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes red-rimmed from all of your crying and your lips cracked and dry.

“What did you tell him?” you croaked, your voice hoarse from under use. There was little to talk about and no one else to talk to whenever Peter wasn’t around. Pepper had visited you once, but with Morgan to look after, she couldn’t spare much time for her late husband’s grieving daughter. You’d seen Happy a couple times as well, but he needed his own time to recover and reflect on his past time with his best friend.

Peter was gentle as he tucked some of the hair strands snot cemented to your jaw behind your ear and cupped your cheek in his palm. He was cold from the autumn chill outside, but his hand ignited the same soothing heat that his touch always brought forth.

“I said you were recovering,” he answered truthfully. “And that it’s different for everyone. And no matter how long it takes, I’m here for you every step of the way.”

The ghost of a smile graced your lips and had it not felt like it stopped beating after losing your father, your heart may have fluttered in its cavity in your chest.

“Thanks Peter,” you curled closer to him in the most sincere of ways. “But I’m afraid it’s going to be a while before I can get up to see Ned again. Give him my best.”

“Take your time. I’m sure he understands.” Peter assured before pulling off his flannel and laying down beside you to wrap you in his arms, allowing you to tuck your face in his chest. As unhappy as you were, all the swirling emotions of suffering were always suppressed by the sound of Peter’s heart and the feel of his body around yours. You stayed like that for a while, holding each other before Peter broke the silence as it neared time for your midday meal.

“I think you should come with me today,” Peter suggested, rising to run his daily lunch retrieval before running a loving hand through your hair. You couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. You hadn’t been able to wash in over a week. “It’s not good for you to stay here all day long. You need to start moving.”

His voice was full of worry, though he wasn’t overbearing. He wanted the best for you, it’s all he ever wanted really.

“I don’t know Peter, I don’t think I can.” you sighed as tears started to fill your eyes again. How could anyone stand to be around you when you were being so pathetic. You wished there was a way to erase your pain, anything to bring you to your normal self again.

“It's okay baby,” Peter hugged you into a tight embrace, kissing your tears as they fell in slow salty streams. “I know it hurts, I feel it too. But I read somewhere that the best thing to do is keep a consistent routine. Maybe you should start today. Come get lunch with me.”

You wanted to agree, but there was no part of you that could move from the weight of your grief. It pressed you down, gravity multiplied by the mass of your sadness as it consumed you. It felt as if only a miracle could save you now.

“I’m so sorry.” you stated with remorse, but Peter made no move to share his disappointment if he had any at all. Instead he leaned down from his seated position and placed his lips on your forehead, a gesture as if to say that all was alright.

“Please don’t cry, y/n. It’s okay.” he assured you before standing to leave and get you something that you figured you probably wouldn’t even eat very much of.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, turning the handle of your door to leave before looking back at you sprawled on your bed. Suddenly, as if he had recalled the cure to the rainiest of days, he expression shifted to one of great excitement as he stopped back into your room.

“I almost forgot,” he began. “Doctor Strange was here earlier. He wanted me to tell you he’s offering some meditation sessions for you if you’re interested. He said they’d be good for your powers and that they might help you feel better if you want to think about it. He’s free at 8 tomorrow.”

You nearly perked up at the sound of the man’s name, picking up your head to cast a last longing glance at Peter as he waited for a parting word.

“Thanks,” you managed. “I’ll let you know.”

And off Peter went to get you both something to eat.

You weren’t sure if he knew how dangerous it was for you to be left with your thoughts, how the mention of the magic doctor sprouted a myriad of mystical ideas all aimed at the same goal that would erase your eternal lonesome aching. How to bring your father back. By the time Peter returned with his hands full of two homemade sandwiches and more sweets than the two of you could ever finish in one sitting, your mind had been made up and you were ready to set the plan in motion.

The following evening was your first time out of the confines of your rooms for days. Peter had helped you greatly with all the tasks you did not have the mental power to do all on your own. He had brushed your hair and made your bed and before you left in one of the less expensive cars held on Avenger’s campus, he sent you off adorned with one of his favorite sweatshirts, a peck on the forehead and enough I love you’s to last more than a lifetime.

You pulled the sleeve of Peter’s sweatshirt over your palm as you drove off, using the cloth to wipe away fresh tears that had fallen after you left your boyfriend’s loving gaze. You’d always been an overthinker, but your bad habits crept up on you worse in your unbreakable stage of sadness. Especially in your father’s favorite car.

You didn’t understand why he hadn’t left you already. Maybe he would. Peter had offered to join you at Strange’s, but after you insisted you had to go alone, he made plans to go help his Aunt May figure out their apartment situation as the pair had been inadvertently kicked out after being gone for so many years. You’d almost forgotten he used to split his nights between the compound and his own bedroom. Recently he’d only stay with you.

He promised to be back before dinner so that the two of you could keep up your progress, but an unsolicited voice within you convinced you that he wouldn’t want to return. You weren’t good enough for him anymore, not like you used to be. Your plan was better for the both of you and as you pulled up to the familiar building on Bleecker Street, all the pieces started to fall into place.

You stepped up to the door, raising your fist to knock only for the door to crack open by itself as if to invite you in. You waited for the familiar sternness of Doctor Strange’s voice to greet you once you were past the stone floored foyer, but only wisps of the autumn breeze caught your ear.

“Strange?” you called, your voice still not stable enough to be louder than a whispery dialogue. You were met with no response. It was just like you had planned. The wizard wasn’t home.

You felt a strong tug towards the room of your desires, the forbidden library. It was as if fate was leading you or some other force from above, another sign that you were meant to do it.

Your steps were more sure than they had been in days as you made your way to the self, passing any magical fire walls with the sheer unfiltered strength of your powers. Strange once told you that they were guided by your emotion, the quintessential essence of every magic holder even to people like you and Wanda Maximoff who were outside of his world protecting wizard cult. It was easier than it should have been, like slicing paper with a katana, you broke each enchantment until all that was left was the cool leather cover of the book you were looking for. The book with every answer you needed inside its ancient yellowing pages, but you only needed the spell that would revive your father. Locating it near the middle of the book, your tore out the page and turned back to your car, leaving the Sanctum with the same unhurried pace you had entered it with. There was no stopping you now.

Peter was only an half an hour late for your agreed meet up time when he arrived at the campus. He expected you’d be in your room as per usual and as he made his way to your door, the excitement of getting to hold you and talk about your first day out of the campus since the funeral built up in his chest. He wasn’t sure if any accomplishment in the world could make him as proud as he was of you. With two brown paper bags of groceries in his hand, he couldn’t wait to shower you in the affection that you deserved with all of your favorite snacks, enough to share of course.

“Y/n,” he smiled, using his webbing to open your door handle only to find, much to his disappointment, that you were nowhere to be found.

He checked all over campus, leaving the bags by your bed. No one had seen you since you’d left and the spot where the car you’d taken was still empty, the normally pristine concrete covered in fallen crisp maroon leaves. It didn’t make any sense. Where could you possibly have gone?

“Y/n!” he called, circling the perimeter of the campus looking for you. There was still no sign of your reappearance. “Y/n- oh. Hi Ms. Maximoff.” Peter forced a strained smile as he nearly bumped into the woman.

“Peter, we’ve been over this,” Wanda answered, her voice calm. “You can call me Wanda.”

Like you, the witch hadn’t been doing the best in recent days as she had lost something just as valuable as a father: her partner. While she occasionally had days where the ground would’ve been lucky to feel the grace of her step, her superhero duties had kept her from spending each day hidden from society. She had a different way of coping, but like others, she seemed to start getting back into routine again.

“Right, sorry Wanda.” Peter apologized.

“What are you doing out here?” inquired the witch in her native Sokovian accent, always intuitive. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s y/n. I can’t find her anywhere and we agreed to meet back here nearly - an hour ago!” Peter pulled up his coat sleeve to check the time on his watch, the face of which bore a picture of him and your father from only a few months before the snap. It had been a birthday gift, one of his favorites in fact, though it couldn't top what you had given him the same year: a lego set and your first kiss.

“I didn’t know that she got out of bed. That’s a big step!”

“Yes it is and we were going to celebrate tonight, but she hasn’t come back yet which is really not like her.” worried Peter.

“Where did she go?”

“Strange’s. He was going to give her a meditation lesson for her powers.”

Confused, Wanda's eyebrow furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Doesn’t she know how to use them already?”

“Yes, but he thought it would help her manage her grief. Working out is a pretty common method, but she hates going to the gym so he figured some meditation would be better for her and -“

“Wait, hold on. Did she go to him this morning?”

“Yes and she was supposed to be back around noon, but it’s nearly six and she’s still gone.” Peter explained.

“Peter!” Wanda chided. She couldn't believe he could make such a grave mistake.

“What?”

“Strange hasn’t been at the Sanctum all day!”

“What?! Where is he?”

“Do I look like a wizard to you?" the witch gestured to her casual leggings and cardigan pairing that drastically differed from Strange's usual eccentric costumes. "How should I know?”

As if summoned by the topic of conversation, a figure appeared in the distant grass, hovering over the blades until he was close enough to be able to walk. His cape that flowed in the breeze like a blood red stream with a mind of its own was a dead give away. Doctor Strange had indeed arrived in the flesh.

“Parker,” he greeted, though he did not smile. “Is Ms. Stark ready for our lesson?”

Peter’s eyes went wide as he realized his mistake.

“Oh no.” he muttered, shaking his head in defeat. He was met with confusion from the wizard.

“No?” Strange repeated. “We agreed upon 8 didn't we? I know I'm a little early, but I assumed she wouldn't be busy. Didn’t you let her know I was coming?”

“Yes,” Peter confirmed. “I told her to be ready and then I sent her off to your place at 8… am.”

“What?!” Strange exclaimed as he summoned a portal to appear leading directly to his found home on Bleecker Street. He stepped through the fiery ring, a silent invitation for the others to follow as he hurried passed your car, up the steps, and into the door which did not part of him the same way it had earlier. Inside he was met with the most frightful of discovers accompanied by the looming feeling of doom as the situation became clear.

The Sanctum, unguarded with his absence, lay littered with books that had fallen from their homes on his shelf’s yet one stood out from all the others. It laid on the floor open with its pages to the ground while every other book was shut. Levitating it with the simple flick of his wrist, a horrifying sight awaited Strange as he turned it over. One of the pages in the sacred book was missing.

“Do you know how serious this is?!” Strange exclaimed and although Peter at first took it as a barbed criticism aimed directly at him, he was able to distinguish Strange’s tone from when he was reprimanding. This was a separate kind of worry, the sort of tone that he had used heavily on the fated spaceship you three had been stuck in until you landed on Titan, Thanos’ home world, nearly five years ago. Treachery was afoot and if your powers were involved, the whole fabric of your current reality could change.

“Which one did she take?” Wanda pointed to the book, clearly noticing the giant tear in its center.

Strange’s voice answered, heavy with concern. “The revival spell.”

“You don’t think she knows, do you? She can’t possibly know how to conjure it.” asked Wanda, the same concern for their future written all over her face.

“That’s exactly what I think.” Strange confirmed.

“What?” Peter asked. “What are you guys talking about?”

“There are many types of magic, Parker, and the Sanctum, the building where you sent your girlfriend, is full of all of them, good and bad alike. Every spell comes with a price, the bigger the spell, the bigger the price and the spell she took comes with one of the biggest prices there is to pay.”

“Think about it, Peter,” Wanda paled. “What does y/n want most in the world right now?”

It hit Peter harder than fresh fallen hail. You were going to try to bring your father back.

“We have to find her. Now.”

Strange tried to use his sling ring to appear wherever you were, but in your grief, the extent of your powers had grown massively. Intentionally or not, you managed to prevent even the most powerful of wizards from using his Sling Ring to access your location.

“She's blocked me out.” Strange frowned. “We’re going to have to track her on foot.”

“She can’t be far,” Peter agreed. “She always takes the shortest path whenever she wants something.” It was one of the many things he loved about you: your ability to turn any taxing task into something much simpler. You were one of the cleverest people he knew. He just hoped it didn’t work in your favor this time.

It was Wanda who had the idea of tracking your magic. She led them to the nearest withering woodland area, where trees with bare branches and dying leaves sprawled endlessly. It was the perfect place to perform dark magic, away from the unyielding eyes of society. The trio didn’t hesitate to run in.

The further they got, the closer you felt especially to Peter despite the fact that he was the only one without his own source of magic. If he lost you tonight, he feared he’d never feel any sort of magic ever again.

They were only half an acre in when Wanda and Strange called out in anguish, the witch falling to her knees while Strange stayed standing, pounding the air with his fist as his trying to break through an invisible barrier though it was to no avail. Whatever was holding him back, it wasn’t fading anytime soon.

“Keep going, Parker!” he shouted, urging Peter forward. “You’re the only one who can stop her. The spell will only allow that which she loves.”

“How do I do it?” Peter shouted. “How do I stop the spell?”

“The page,” Wanda replied, quicker than Strange could as his reply was easy for her to access. “You have to tear it apart.”

Without wasting a second more, Peter sprung back towards where he could feel you, running without fatigue as his superhuman endurance supplied him with plenty of energy.

It was only a minute later that he caught his first sign of you. There was a break in the tree line out of which a bright amber glow poured like an incandescent warning. It was a dramatic contrast from the normal comforting emerald greens of your magic, but it was you nonetheless and Peter didn’t stop until he was so close he had to shade his eyes from the light.

If it weren’t for the dark nature of what you were doing, Peter would’ve considered it one of the most beautiful events he’d ever seen take place. He wasn’t sure if the circle of trees that surrounded you had been a natural formation or one you made for the sake of the spell, but he was sure the way they seemed to bend to your will, despite the hard wood of their birch trunks, had to be because of your power. In the center of it all was you and the page you had stolen atop a pile of purple and golden leaves. You stood before it, eyes closed as you whispered some sort of incantation. Your powers spread above you in orange flickering flames as you outstretched your arms and summoned what looked like the beginnings of a portal, though it was hard to peer through like a bride covered in a veil of night black.

Peter shouted your name, screaming for you to stop, but you didn’t so much as flinch as the portal grew. You couldn’t hear him over the force of your will. He could start to feel what Wanda and Strange were trapped behind. There was some sort of invisible wall that threatened to push him back from you, but he couldn’t be defeated. He had to stop you. Step by step, he got closer and closer to you, watching in horror as your body was lifted from the ground and floated in midair. A new energy started weeping through the fabric that covered your chest, soft and white like a sheer glittering fabric. It drifted towards the portal and as Peter neared you he could make out the outline of a face forming from it in the black center of it. It started to take shape, growing a neck and a body and becoming more concrete than a fragmented part of your energy. He became more unmistakable as the color grew back into his face. Tony Stark, in the flesh. Peter hurried towards the page.

You opened your eyes to gaze into the face of your father, tears flowing down your face partially from the exhaustion of bringing him back and from being able to see him again.

You tried to say something, tell him how much you had missed him, but you were left rendered without a voice. Your words came out as mouthed nonsense, though it seemed he had regained his voice.

“Y/n,” he uttered, though it seemed more like a warning than a greeting after being torn from you for so long.

You mouthed something you knew he’d understand. I love you too, dad.

Some other force called your name, but you ignored it. You couldn’t focus on anything else, but the father you had lost regaining life right in front of you. With every part that he gained, you felt a part of your fade. It wasn’t painful, more numbing than anything like the final dose to end all your sadness. You couldn’t help but relish in it. You were bringing back one of the greatest men to ever live.

You were so distracted, you missed the web that landed on the page below you and pulled it away.

“Y/n,” your dad said again, nearly having enough of one of his legs to step out of the portal when suddenly, the inky blackness swallowed him whole again and dissolved in the forest light, taking back the only thing you ever wanted.

“NO!” you cried as your voice returned to you and you fell back down to the dry grass and dead leaves, crumpled on the forest floor as all of the magic you had summoned faded away save for the glittering cloud that returned to your chest with such force it made you cough. You had failed.

“Y/n!” someone called and you shuddered away from their hand on your shoulder as loud sobs erupted from you.

“Leave me!” you begged. “Just leave!” Peter refused to leave your side, tossing behind him the page he had shredded into tiny scraps of paper as he knelt beside you, careful not to touch you again. “Why did you have to do that? Why did you take him from me?”

“You were going to die! I couldn’t let you di-“

“I WANTED TO DIE!”

Peter froze as you whimpered, the truth spreading above the both of you in the cold air like storm clouds as you cried to him.

“I want him back. Everyone wants him back. No one cares about his depressed daughter and I don’t want to hurt anymore, Peter.” you paused to take a deep breath. “It- it hurts so much.” you could barely get the words out as you were choked by your sobs. “It hurts knowing I could’ve saved him. It hurts knowing it should’ve been me that snapped those stupid stones. And I don’t want to live with that anymore. I had to try to bring him back for the world. It needs him more than it needs me.”

You brought a hand to your face, wiping away some of your tears, though it was no use as more came pouring out.

“I need you.” uttered Peter, looking into your glossy eyes. The sight of your tears and the echo of your screams couldn’t deter him from you. You can’t be repelled from the ones that you love.

“But you miss him, don’t you,” you argued as hot tears coated your face. “You want him back too.”

Peter nodded in agreement.

“I think about him everyday. Our moments together. Like this one time he saved me from drowning in a lake. Or-“ Peter grinned. “- remember when he caught us making out that one time before we told him we were together. He was so mad.” Peter smiled to himself, looking fondly on the memory until he began again.

“I miss him so much and it makes me so sad that I'll never see him again. But I wouldn’t trade you for him. I wouldn't trade you for anyone. You’re worth more to me than anyone else in the universe.”

Your sobs slowed yet the tears did not cease as they still cascaded down your face.

“It hurts me so much.” you restated.

Peter opened his arms. “May I?” he asked. You nodded and before you knew it, you were engulfed by a warmth unlike any other as Peter hugged you tight enough to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave him again.

“I know you do,” he related. "And I wish I could take it away. I wish I could just bag all your pain and throw it all away. But it doesn't work like that. It's going to hurt. It's going to be painful, so much so that you won't move from bed for days and days. You haven't."

"But I feel like everyone else has already moved on. Why can't I?" you shivered.

"No one else was as close to him as you. Everyone else lost a friend. You lost a father. There's a big difference. You can't expect yourself to move on from it. That's not healthy. It's just like I said, I'm here for you no matter how long it takes. You have to take your time with it, don’t rush the process." Peter pressed the lightest of kisses to one of your dampened cheeks.

"I just don't know what to do."

"Breathe."

As silly as it sounded in its simplicity you did as he instructed and inhaled deeply, allowing the air to coat your lungs that hadn’t been exposed to so much fresh air in a week. As you exhaled, you let out another sob in his arms, but somehow it felt better than all the others. You were not rid of your pain by any means and sadness still corroded your core, but for the first time in so long, you didn’t feel so hopeless. Peter placed another gentle kiss on your cheek, encouraging you as you took several more slow breaths and quiet cries until you found the strength to speak again.

“Was it like this for you when your parents died?” you wondered aloud as you pulled away from Peter to look into his chocolate brown eyes that you almost forgot you loved so much, yet not so far that he couldn't keep his arms around your frame that was still bearing his sweatshirt. You hadn’t spoken much about them before and while you weren’t sure where the question had arisen from, it felt like the right thing to ask.

“I was so young when they passed, sometimes I feel like they were never mine to begin with,” he admitted. “I took a couple days off school when it happened, but I don’t remember crying all that much. It’s tragic and sometimes it makes me sad that they’re gone, but I’m glad that it does. It’s a reminder that they were there for me in the first place, that I knew them enough to miss them. The grief is proof that I loved them while they were here.”

You were both silent for a moment as you thought about his words in relation to your situation. All your pain was put into perspective. Everything you had been through since he died, all the days you wasted away in bed, it was all the proof that you had loved him so much when he was alive and that you were still carrying the love you had left for him. You missed your father so much you were willing to die to get him back and for a moment, you almost did.

You parted from Peter’s arms to stand though you still grasped onto his hands as you weren’t strong enough to be upright on your own. You closed your eyes again and listened to the sound of the forest, the swaying of the leaves that still clung to their branches, the faint twittering of birds, and the calm of the sky that was oddly cloudless for autumn. The sound of your name falling from your father’s reformed lips was still faint in the air and for a moment you felt as though you were with him again.

You remembered when he taught you how to ride a bike one evening when you were only four. You remembered the day he pulled you from public school and started teaching you at home. You remembered the look of shock on his face when you showed him your powers for the first time and even more, you remember his pride when you completed your first mission with the Avengers (that he'd approved ahead of time to avoid any more Germany -like surprises). He wasn’t there, but at the same time he was everywhere. And you missed him, but at the same time the absence he left in your life felt less empty.

The tears came out in slow smooth streams, flowing down in slow trickles as you finally sat back down. You didn’t say anything and neither did Peter, but you knew he could feel what you felt. He could feel your father too and minutes slipped by as you sat and cried together.

There was a sudden rustling in the distance and soon enough, Doctor Strange and Wanda had arrived at the scene, no longer held back by invisible barriers. They rushed to you bringing flooding guilt through your system as you began to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”

Strange opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing to say. You could tell by his expression that he was disappointed, but there was more to it. He had empathy.

It was Wanda that leaned down to place a friendly hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s get you home.”

The months following were some of the hardest of your life. Every battle you faced was uphill, but you no longer felt like you were fighting alone. You started going out again, first to visit Pepper and your half sister Morgan who lived in their cabin home. Peter joined you of course, but he played with Morgan for the most part while you and Pepper talked. You cried with her, but you laughed a lot too. She shared with you so many of her own memories, times when your father didn't know what to get you for your birthday, when he had managed to mess up cooking dinner in the strangest of ways, and when he’d accidentally burned your favorite stuffed animal in the drying machine all of which Pepper had to remedy. Though she hadn’t raised you, she was the mother you never had and through her stories you learned that your father had been just as good raising Morgan with her as he had been with you.

You hung out with Ned and MJ again shortly after that. While Peter had suggested a brief check-in at a cafe so you could go home quickly to rest, you surprised him with a much more time consuming idea: laser tag. The four of you had the best time targeting each other, you winning more rounds than any of the others. You ended the day with smoothies, talking as you drank and making plans for the next time you would all see each other. MJ made you promise you would text her if you ever needed anything and Ned gave you a whole plate of his Lola’s ensaymadas, your favorite dish of hers.

Finally, though he was locked up in his house and avoiding humanity, you visited Happy. Peter offered to join you like all the other times, but you assured him it would be best if he stayed home, promising you would return later. Happy was in a similar state of dismay to you when you saw him and while he was able to care for himself and continue with his personal routine, you could tell he was hurting.

You didn't say much when you first entered his apartment, but there was comfort within the silence. You sat with him on his sofa and watched whatever mind numbing program he had turned on to distract his thoughts until you had both worked up an appetite for lunch. It was there, in the middle of a random Burger King in Queens over a plate of cheeseburgers that you both broke down. You told him what you had nearly done, trusting him with the sensitive information as he was almost a second father to you. You took your time telling him the story of how you had nearly died to bring back your father.

Happy cried as you did and when you were finished, he told you how much you meant to him. He traded your story for one from your father after he returned from Afghanistan where he had famously been kidnapped.

"You could tell he was shaken," Happy began. "He told me he wasn't scared to die, but he was scared of losing time with you and leaving you alone. Pepper and I had been so busy trying to get him back, he was worried you had been neglected while he was gone. But when he came home and he saw your room clean, your toys put away, and a fridge full of leftovers from meals you prepared yourself, he was so proud. You inspired him to turn his life around. It was after that he told me that he knew you'd be okay if he was taken from us one day."

You both cried after that.

Long after you had finished your food, Happy drove you to the Parker's new apartment with the promise that he would be okay too, eventually. He also admitted that he was starting to develop quite the liking for your faithful boyfriend after hearing all that he had done for you, though he’d skin you alive if you ever told Peter.

It was that night in Peter's new bedroom that you knew you’d be okay. It still hurt to think of your father and you knew you’d never entirely recover and that the pain would never fully leave you, but there was a certain comfort in it now. You knew Peter felt it too as he snuggled half asleep into your side, his arm slung around your body in a protective manner, but also to keep from falling of the twin bed you shared as he let you sleep on the side with the wall. There were still days when you didn’t want to leave your bed, but there were also days when you felt more elated than ever. You could feel your father in those moments the most, like the shine of his smile took form in the light from the sun. You couldn’t see him nor could you speak with him, but you knew he wasn’t really gone. It was love that kept him around. And it was the love you carried for him that would suspend you for lifetimes, through light and dark until the end of time.

“I hope this grief stays with me because its all the unexpressed love” - Andrew Garfield 💙

#tom holland x you #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker #mental health #suicide awareness #avengers endgame #tony stark #stark!daughter #stark!reader #fem!reader #you are loved

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