Tony x Reader - Jar of HeartsWORD OF WARNING!! CONTAINS FEELS!I know I can'ttake one more steptowards you. Causeall that's waitingis regret.You walked down the streets of Manhatten, and you phone buzzed in your pocket. You were just finishing up your nightly jog."Hey babe. <3"It was Tony."Hey! What's up?" You texted back."Nothing much. Just doing stupid paperwork that Fury assigned, so I won't be done for a while."You smirked and texted,"That sucks. See you in a few. Love ya! <3" You turned off your phone, and jogged to the Tower.And don't youknow I'm not yourghost anymore. Youlost the love Iloved the most.You walked into the Tower, seeing Natasha and Clint cuddling on the couch, watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith. You smiled at them, and you walked to the elevator."Miss, might I suggest you not going to Tony's room?" JARVIS asked. You frowned and asked confused,"Why?"Silence.I learned to live,half alive. And nowyou want me one more,time. And who do youthink
Bucky x Teen!Runaway!Reader Part 2PLEASE READ THE LAST CHAPTER TO UNDERSTAND THIS ONE!!!"That was about 24 years ago. I was 12. Now I'm 15, almost 16. That man was the only person I trusted in a long time. His name was John, John Keller I think. He was about 21 when we met but the first five months I was with him, he died. I've been running since. No stops, never slept in the same place twice...Then HYRDA came, and offered me a job. I declined. It was the worst mistake of my life. They kidnapped me, tutored me, shoved me, and almost made me go mentally insane. Then, that's when they brain-washed me. They strapped me to a hard, leather chair, and took everything away from me...Even the only memories of my mom. They stuck me into a Cyro Freezer almost 24 years ago. I'll admit, I'm old lady. But I escaped from them. 3 years, two months, and 16 days days I've been away. And I've been slowly getting my memories back. But not in the ways I would have hoped. I get Night Terrors every single night. Not ever a
RemorseConsequences: pay in blood. Almost dry.
daughter on the stepstool I count the cracks in between the blocks of cement as I walk, eyes downcast. Sets of two, sets of two. I can never quite shake the way my bones don’t sit right under my skin, too big for my body. It’s a constant itch that I can’t scratch, only mollified when I listen, when I listen to what it tells me. My disease tells me to count in sets of two—blink four times, two sets of two. I don’t understand, but those numbers are safety in a storm. They ruin me, though. They ruin me. I hide behind mathematical equations that account for sets of two, and I leave her to drown.These are my hands, but they’re really just earthquakes. I am not afraid to crumble anything that gets in my way, and it’s always her. She always tries to stop me, tells me she loves me after calling me fucked up. Fucked up. I lose sleep because sometimes I dream in shades that I do not like. Blue, like her eyes. One syllable, half of a set. A ghost
Amber SunrisesI’m not entirely sure yet. You know, why bad things happen all the time. I’m kind of just here trying to figure all of this out myself. Why suns rise and set, why life comes into this world, and why it always has to end. I sat outside. That darkish blue color was in the sky again. It’s always in the sky. It’s like it never really goes away. And I guess it doesn’t because apparently the blue in the sky is just a reflection of the ocean. I woke up at 6:30am today. And I couldn’t go back to sleep. So I went outside. It was cold outside. The refreshing kind though. It was like a bitter sweet kind of wind and it tussled with the knots in my hair for a little while until they both calmed down and went in their respected directions. There was nobody else outside and it was quiet. I almost fell back asleep until I saw the sun starting to rise. So I climbed up onto the roof to get a better look at this amber fire. I almost fell off but I didn’t (I
fragmenti am cheap and easily bought; i come complete with bruises and the built-in urge to run away.
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