This is a collection of imagines involving some of my favourite Marvel Men. Each story has a different female OC as the romantic lead for her superhuman counterpart.
I would recommend that readers be 18+ due to some mature themes.
Requests are alway...
Lark sipped on her coffee as Bucky polished off the last of his cinnamon roll. The afternoon sun was shining in through the window of the cozy little coffee shop, and Lark was basking in its warmth. She closed her eyes and turned her face towards the sun, finally feeling her energy picking up.
"This is nice." She said quietly, and Bucky smiled as he wiped his fingers clean and leaned back in the café chair.
"I'm glad you liked it." He said and Lark opened one of her eyes to peek over at Bucky who was watching her blissfully.
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
"You're staring." She whispered and Bucky rolled his eyes at the comment, making Lark giggle to herself as she looked back out the window.
"I'm gonna go change in the washroom. I'll be right back, then you can do the same." He said and grabbed his backpack as he stood up.
Lark felt a little spark of excitement in the pit of her stomach as she reached down beside her chair and grabbed the gift bag with her beautiful new dress in it. She pulled it out and ran her fingers over the soft fabric, tracing the ribbons of blue dye that ran through the pearly white. Before she knew it, Bucky was back and he sat down across from her.
"You should go put it on instead of just petting it." He teased and Lark stuck her tongue out at him as she jumped up and walked absentmindedly towards the washroom.
She closed the door behind her then gasped as she looked over the adorable little bathroom of the café it was a single person ladies room and was decorated with floral wallpaper and a floor to ceiling mirror beside the sink. Lark set down her bag and walked over to the sink, switching it on and washing her hands as she glanced up and looked at her reflection. Her breath caught in her throat as she was taken aback by how dreadful she looked. There were dark circles under her eyes, her skin was pale, the cut across her throat was a deep red beneath the thin pieces of tape that held it closed. She tugged off her beanie and frowned further at her flat, tangled hair. She unzipped the black windbreaker and let it fall to the floor, then hesitantly pulled the sweater over her head and let it drop as well.
She stepped in front of the full length mirror and looked over her pale arms, marred with purple, handprints where the intruders from last night had grabbed her. She ran her fingers over the tender skin. She hadn't even realized she was bruising. She Pulled her t-shirt over her head and let it fall onto the accumulating pile of clothes, and looked over the red trail of blood that had dripped down inside of her sweater, stained her bra and trailed down to her belly button. The blood was dried and dark, and Lark ran her still damp fingers over it, easily wiping away the crimson stain. She wiped, and wiped the same spot until her skin was red and raw, then continued to wipe it. She could hear her heart beating in her head, and felt a tightness forming in her chest as her breaths came quicker. Her hands started to shake as she scratched at spot on her neck where the blood had been.
Lark looked up into the mirror and suddenly realized what she was doing, and clasped her hands together tightly to try and keep them from trembling.
"It's just a panic attack. Get a grip." She mumbled to herself as she fought an internal battle to regain control of her spiralling thoughts. She shook out her hands and took a few deep breaths, trying to think of what she would tell a patient going through these same symptoms.
