#I feel like I need a fucking shock blanket after that experience dear god

[garagevermin]

god there’s this person in my a capella group who I am uh increasingly abnormal about (they have so much gender is the thing) and I just literally dreamed about them and woke up almost shaking, what the fuck

[girlwithwolftatoo]

I saw you write some for the courtiers with a virgin s/o, could you maybe write something like that for the main 6? Or at least Lucio? I also really love your writing, I've been binging since 11pm and it's almost 4am now.

Dearest anon: I’m deeply sorry for making you wait this long, but I didn’t want to write something boring for this request so I hope this fulfills your desires:

Asra:

*We’ll ignore the fact that him and MC were lovers before and focus in these new life his apprentice has gained. He loves them just as the first day they met, and of course being with them once again is like a dream come true...

*But because all the mess he just has to control himself for a time. He’s more than ready to love you properly but... what if you don’t feel good to intimate with your “master”?

*Once you give him signs you want to take the relationship to a new level, he start to act like the perfect lover, preparing everything for a perfect night: soft jazmin and cinammon incense (because love is in the air, literally), the comfiest blankets are set on the bed, the moonlight bathes the room in this beautiful white-blue shine... oh yes, everything’s like a dream.

*Do not believe he’ll be a complete soft boi. No, he craves for you, he wants you whole and he’ll take what he was needing for three long years in a road. His lips will be anywhere and wont hesitate to lick and suck any sensitive place for he remembers them very well.

*This can be a very erotic experience for he knows pretty well how to make you feel great, and he has no problem leading you. In fact, he secretly enjoys being the “master” even in this situation and will treat you kindly but a little naughty too. 

Nadia:

*We know, she loves being in command, and your virginity is like a plus for those desires. Thought it doesn’t mean she gives to this thing a very important place in your relationship.

*Perhaps doesn’t take the scene path as Asra does, but you bet the previous moments before bedding you will be filled with a lot of care and spoil. A good dinner, some time spent together in the bath, washing each other’s hair, caressing with your bare hands or bath sponges...

*She will start the event by helping you to undress, because you probably will be nervous as heck but also because she wanna make you feel like the little god/goddess she swears you are, and will take advantage of it by running her hands through your flesh.

*For this is the first time she wont be too dom, but she’ll top you. Of course she will, and she will make you cry in pleasure with her hands as she stares at your lovely face and all the gestures you do in the process.

*This woman learns quickly where and how you enjoy being touched, and wont lose the chance to make you come with just her hands or feet. but when the time had come you’ll notice some small tears in her eyes. It’s so weird you ask what’s going on, and she confesses: she feels like in heaven being there with you, knowing she’s your first and that you’re being so happy into her arms.

Portia:

*Portia has a very kinky side, but it’s the sort of kink that trips once she learns you’re a virgin. It’s like going from “yasss babe” to “wait wut? you’re baby? oh God what have I done...”

*There’s not a *perfect* time to do it, you were probably just rolling hapilly near to her cottage and, when she was under you, both covered in leafs and flowers, she gives you the look and... oh, now you know he feels ready to take you.

*There gonna be laugh and fun in the foreplay, as you undress each other and she helps you when you don’t know what to do. Her secret is that she knows herself pretty well and she signs you the places she enjoys the most so you can play. In this game there’s not a real top or bottom, you’re switching very often.

*And when the time has come... oh dear, just look at her face, she’s even more in shock than you. Will ask repeatedly if you feel okay with that, if you want her to change the pace or the moves... all this said as her face turns red from the heat and the arousal.

*Will hug you and fall asleep with you right after it. You feel like it wasn’t a big deal, but doesn’t mean it was plain or bored. It’s just that everything went so natural, so sweet and calmed you felt in control of yourself. 

Muriel:

*Good news for you, guess who’s a virgin too? (Yes, this might be very awkward, sorry).

*Impossible to know who’s more afraid of this: you, or Muriel who cannot believe someone wants to be with him in... that way (because, yes, as a gladiator he surely had some enthusiastic fans, but it’s. not. the same) and also because he’s scared of... ripping you in a half or something.

*So this time you probably are the one who takes the first step. You feel nervous, but you really really want him. And thought he acts a little averting at first, your soft moves, your tender begging and the feel of your clumsy hands and lips makes him melt pretty soon.

*Foreplay lasts a lot because you’re both discovering each other, but also because Bear boi wants you to be completely sure about this (because... well, he’s so fucking scared but also fucking horny because you’re like, moaning as he fingers you or something that everything is confusing).

*And oh... yes, he’s a... very big boy. He stares at you in utterly horror, wondering how can he being inside you and you’re still in a piece, and he’s so affraid to move you’ll  have to take the lead. Is painful, but also very lovely and tender.

*From this day he will protect you with all his strenght and wont let anything happen to you, that’s what he swear once you fall tired and sleepy in his arms when you’re done.

Julian:

*We know this man has a thing for... being touchy, and tends to make jokes about you making out and stuff, but when you’re in the middle of a session and you tell your secret, he goes blank for a few seconds.

* “You... you are what? Oh, I see... uh, this is unexpected... not that it bothers me or something but... uh...” (we are sorry, Julian.exe stopped working).

*Asra might be the most caring lover, knowing very well how to act towards you, but Julian is in a different level. He praises you, don’t letting any trace of your sking untouched, he enjoys every second since you undressed in front of him and gave this cautios, fragile and yet aroused sight.

*He’s also the one who speaks more in bed, and will be claiming how he loves everything in you. Also will moan and pant almost as much as you, and it increasses as soon as he’s finally inside you. You can see his face getting reddened and feeling him getting tense. He’s so affraid of hurting you...

*Will kiss you and being soft and calmed in his pace so you can adjust to him. If you ask him to go further, he’ll try to convince you to let it for another time, because you’re still not used to this. But he dies for taking you a little harder, for making you bounce on his cock and being in control of you, that’s the truth.

*As a plus I must remember he’s a doctor and knows how to make the fun lasts... (I’m talking about contraceptives, yes... I’m a funny person, I know).

Lucio:

*He sees himself as a good somelier for people (if you know what I mean) and the idea of having sex with a virgin is a fantasy he enjoys a lot.

*...Until it becomes true. He will act like the dominant, wonderful lover he hectors he is, but... well, he wasn’t ready or a virgin, or more exactly he wasn’t ready for you to being a virgin. Because, yes, his seduction games had maybe reached you, but he wants something more of you... he wants to be with you not only in that way.

*Will take you to his chambers and show you their opulence, before inviting you to the bed like all a gentleman, and wont let you waste any energy. He enjoys himself undressing you, but not before dragging you to a furious, intense kiss session in which he’ll kiss and praise with his lips any place of your skin he uncovers.

*Of course will show himself to you with all his vanity, for he’s very proud of himself. And encourages you to touch him and into more sexual games as an apetizer before the “big moment”. And oh, he knows very well how to seize that moment.

*And once he gets into you... he changes completely. He’s not the naughty partner anymore, he’s more tender, more natural, you can notice he becomes more sensitive and his facade drops to let you see the real him behind. It’s not as loud as Julian, but his face goes red and sweaty for the nerves and that’s pretty obvious.

*The aftercare lasts even more than the lovemaking, but that’s when you can see how important was to him this moment. He’ll treat you like a king/queen and you can be sure he wont forget this day for the rest of his life.

[eyesintheshadows]

hi my name’s ruggy and this is the product of 6 real time years of the longest fucking slowburn ship i have ever done in my life @ironclawed

“William, William look at me—God, please, don't leave me... you'll be okay, just hang on, you'll be okay...”

A blood soaked hand shakily reaches up, pressing to Joe's face as tears trickle down his cheeks, and a gloved hand quickly wraps around it, leaning into the touch. There's blood, so much damn blood, and William can only cough up more as his body begins to fail him. The action has Joe holding him tighter, breath trembling.

“Please don't leave me alone..”

---

“Come with me.”

“To France?” The tone is skeptical, unintentionally; it's more shock than anything.

“Oui, why not? We are no longer needed here, and you never had the allegiances to the Assassins as I did, anyway.” William had given it a lot of thought, and still Joe was stunned.

He had never given any thought to doing anything other than filling contracts, working alongside William, and occasionally being able to simply relax with the Huntsman. Their relationship had blossomed, and a decade had passed since they had begun to work together. America's freedom had been won, and while the Assassins had continued fighting long after the Revolution had ended, the days of needing to keep that peace so vigilantly were dwindling. Many others had gone their own ways, according to William, and Joe had certainly taken notice. But he was a mercenary they contracted, so it had never really felt like his business to know, or care.

Except he did, because of the Huntsman.

---

The next week saw them boarding a ship, Joe lingering on the gangplank. A reassuring touch to his arm draws him out of his hesitation, and William offers him a smile that reminds the Night Stalker of why he fell so hard for William in the first place. The journey is long, and Joe can't exactly say he's fond of it; he'd forgotten how much he hated ships. But the journey is different from when he first came to America; he has William with him.

While they had gotten their own cabins (it was nice to have money, for these little luxuries), Joe often sneaks into William's and shares the small bunk with the Frenchman, the night more often than not finding the room filling with the rustling of blankets, stifled moans and soft gasps. Hands grip at anything they can, clawing at a back, the sheets, tangling in hair and curling around other hands for dear life, and by the time morning fills the room, it's to warm the exhausted bodies that cling to each other, arms wrapped around each other.

Disembarking is a strange experience; Joe watches William quietly as they step onto the busy port, and he gets the sense that William is conflicted. France was his home, yet he'd spent a good bit of his life away from it, while also having essentially forsaken his family lineage in favour of loving a man. That last bit of the thought is banished quickly from Joe's mind, before he can think it over too much, and nudges his lover lightly.

“We should find a place to stay, unless you...already had somewhere in mind?” He offers quietly, trying to bring William out of his own thoughts. He doubted returning to the de Saint-Prix estate was an option.

“Yes, you're right. My family has a small villa that we used to stay in during the summer, mostly for my Assassin training,” William sounds thoughtful, yet still very distant. Joe watches him for a few heartbeats, before flagging down a carriage, and letting William fall into his natural state when the driver speaks French. Joe spends most of the trip peering out the window, simply watching the streets turn into countryside, when William speaks up to thank the driver.

It wasn't that he didn't know French; he just didn't feel comfortable speaking it, because he knew he had no accent. William had been far too aware of this; he'd tried not to laugh the few times Joe had tried to be romantic and say some loving affectation in French, only to gently correct the Night Stalker, and instead fluster him. But the meaning behind those attempts were what meant the most to William.

The villa is larger than anything Joe was used to, and for the first few weeks, he struggles to settle in. “There's too many damn rooms, what the hell do you need all this space for?!” The shout echoes, and William has to stifle his laugh, watching the taller man move from room to room in frustration.

“You left your coat upstairs, in the third room on the left.”

“I hate you.”

That finally draws a laugh from William, Joe disappearing up the stairs and shouting his annoyance once he finds the aforementioned room.

---

“I thought you said you were done with the Assassins,” Joe frowns, watching as William unfolds a fancy letter one night, the fire flickering brightly and warming the room. It was October, and they'd lived together for four months, every bit the married couple that they wanted to be, yet knew they publicly couldn't be.

“It is not simply an occasional hobby I can choose to pick up or put down, Joe, I have an obligation to the Parisian Brotherhood as much as I did the American Brotherhood. It was they who sent me to the colonies, in the first place,” William replies curtly, despite knowing it would only draw Joe's ire. And indeed, he feels the glare, but cannot feel the concern Joe does.

“Why should they need you?”

“Joe--”

“You already fought through one revolution, why is this one your problem?!” Joe's voice wavers, and he sits down, rubbing his hands over his face. William waits for him to calm down before answering.

“Joe, America's revolution was not my fight. I am not American, yet I still aided when I was needed. France is my home, and I feel a responsibility to see this one through.” He decides not to mention that he's not particularly thrilled at being called back to duty, either, but the way Joe sags in the chair pains him.

“Then let me fight beside you. It's not my fight, but I want to be with you.”

“Non.”

“William!”

“I do not think you understand, Joe, customs here are vastly different from what you're used to! I am still looked at as part of a noble family, and expected to marry and have children, or at the very least have children. These are not things I can do, being with you, and I am more than okay with that. I've made my peace about it, but American customs do not have noble families arranging marriages for one another. I still have an image to uphold, despite having been gone for so long.”

Joe stills, feeling like a red-hot dagger had pierced his heart, and William's expression changes in a flash when he realises what he'd said. “Joe, that's not what I meant--”

“I know.” It hurts, but he knows William would have never tried to hurt him. He knows that William is still expected to keep a clean reputation for his family name, but he can't stop the sting of knowing that he'd ruined William's life. It felt like that night on the docks all those months ago, when he'd had doubts. He was free to love William as much as he desired, because he had no family, had no title, nothing to uphold. But William was risking everything simply by keeping Joe as company. He could never acknowledge their relationship publicly, and they could never be more than simply partners in various terms of the word.

William gets up, kneeling in front of Joe's chair and taking his hands into his own, meeting Joe's gaze. “Do not ever doubt my affections for you, Joe. They have never wavered, I have never regretted my decision to love you, and nor will I ever. But I think you sometimes forget that we come from two vastly different worlds, and need to be reminded.”

Silence lingers on Joe's end for a long while, and William's afraid that he's already broken their relationship irreparably, before the Night Stalker speaks. “I know.” It's not reassuring, but Joe leans down to kiss him softly, a kiss William happily reciprocates. Joe presses their foreheads together, sighing softly against his lips. “I wish things could be different for us.”

---

William's work for the Parisian Assassins leaves Joe to his own devices most nights, and while they come to an agreement that Joe can tag along, he also has to remain some distance back. He becomes like William's shadow, and while it's difficult and unnatural at first, they fall into a rhythm that works.

A small box waits for William when he returns home, two years into their living in France, and William picks it up in confusion, opening it slowly. A simple gold band sits inside, and Joe watches with his breath held as William picks it up, unable to fathom the implication.

At first, Joe's afraid he hates it. He opens his mouth to try and justify the decision, before William slips the ring onto a small chain, fastening the chain around his neck. He closes a hand around the ring, Joe closing his mouth as he does, and he doesn't remember a time when William looked so full of varying emotion, all positive. His own ring rested around his finger, yet another instance of him knowing that he could get away with wearing it in public, but also knowing that it would remain hidden whenever he needed it to, simply because of the fact he wore gloves and William did not.

Later that night, William curls into his side as Joe wraps his arms around the Huntsman, before William holds the ring again, closing his eyes happily. “It will always be close to my heart, just as you are, mon ami.”

“God, you're disgustingly sappy.”

“Says the one who bought us wedding rings.”

“I'm trying to catch up to your sappiness, there's a difference.”

William chuckles, Joe kissing his head before pulling the blankets closer, closing his eyes. The next two years are blissful with the weight of the rings on their bodies, and for all the world, they truly do feel united.

---

Nothing is unusual until William leaves for his contract mission one night, a simple recon. Joe tagged along, hovering nearby as they crouch on a rooftop, chatting idly to pass the time. It's spring, and the crowds take longer to die out as the cold of winter is chased away, leaving them plenty of time to simply relax.

Two hours pass until William reacts, and Joe lingers, staying back a rooftop. It's only when he sees a glint in the corner of his eye that he realises someone had anticipated William's arrival, and he turns a moment too late, the gun firing. The bullet whizzes by him and finds its target, and time feels like it's slowing as Joe turns back to see William recoil, hand clutching at the entry wound. He stumbles a few steps, body crumpling and causing him to fall from the rooftop, the sight drawing a horrified shout from Joe.

He races forward, disregarding his own safety as he drops from the rooftop, knees falling to the ground beside William's body. His hands tremble, afraid of touching William but resolving to pull him up gingerly, cradling him as William gasps for air. There's no exit wound, and the dark stains that grow steadily across William's chest, coupled with the faint rattling every time he breathes, tells Joe exactly what he doesn't want to know. His lung had been punctured, and the bullet was still lodged in his chest.

His scarf is yanked down, hanging loosely beneath his chin as a shaking hand presses lightly over the wound, as if that could stifle the flow of blood. His eyes begin to sting, and it takes Joe a moment to realise that tears are burning them, escaping down his face and plipping onto the ground.

“Stay with me, just hold on... I'll get you to a doctor, they'll fix you up.” He knows it's a lie, but he can't bear to think about the painful reality. William, on the other hand, has already accepted his fate. Blood trickles from his mouth, and Joe lets out a weak sob, shaking his head. “Don't do this, please hold on...”

“I'm glad... we had the time together...that we did. Being with you was... the best thing that ever happened,” William struggles to speak, but he forces himself to get the words out, and Joe only lets out another sob.

“William, William look at me—God, please, don't leave me... you'll be okay, just hang on, you'll be okay...”

A blood soaked hand shakily reaches up, pressing to Joe's face as tears trickle down his cheeks, and a gloved hand quickly wraps around it, leaning into the touch. There's blood, so much damn blood, and William can only cough up more as his body begins to fail him. The action has Joe holding him tighter, breath trembling.

“Please don't leave me alone..”

William's hand falls from his cheek the second Joe's own hand releases it, and shock freezes the Night Stalker to the core, eyes widening. It takes a few moments for him to register the Huntsman's still form, hand pressing to his chest and frantically searching for the thump of a heart beat, finding nothing.

“William. William, wake up. Don't you fucking do this to me, open your eyes, you fucking bastard..!” His voice breaks, tears dripping onto the man's face as Joe sobs, curling over William's body. His sobs turn to mournful screams, the night echoing with his agony, and when the sun rises, it looks for all the world like he'd become a corpse as well, holding onto his lover's body tightly when his sobs had finally fallen silent.

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 6: Lost Legacy

Chapters: 6/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Nothing I Can Think Of Relationships: Loki x Reader Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC, Bjarkehild(OFC) Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending, New Asgard, MAGIC, Touch is Habit Forming, Oops, Fuck That Dish in Particular, Thor Knows a Thing or Two About Earth

Summary: Holding hands with Loki can be a bit too much to handle.

You woke to a full scale invasion of your room. A group of women entered with Loki at their lead, carrying your breakfast, and a bathrobe nearly identical to the one he was wearing.

Oh, you’d just known it. You’d known you had been wearing his clothes. It made you uncomfortable just thinking about it. Not only had he sneaked into the room sometime yesterday morning while you were sleeping, to leave you food and clothes, but also, the wearing of his clothing indicated a level of intimacy that the two of you definitely did not have and that you couldn’t even contemplate wanting. And now all of these women were not only going to see you wearing his things, but they would also know that he could and did access the room anytime he wanted. What were they going to think? You had only been here for two days; you did not want to get a reputation for being anybody’s ‘kept woman’.

Loki set the food and robe down, and stripped the blanket from you, jovially commanding you to arise. At your squeak of protest, the oldest woman stuck her finger in his face, and though you couldn’t understand her, she was clearly berating him. It was a little shocking to see him being shoved out the door, scolded like a child, and even grinning like one.

But he had to have been a child at some time, hadn’t he? Maybe this woman had scolded him even then. She shut the door behind him.

“Ah, scalliwag that he be, let him not get thee in a tizzy, dear. Up, up! We must see to thee.”

“Er, yes ma’am.” Her tone brooked no argument. You rose, yawning, stretching. “What do you need me for?”

“We’re to provide thee with things a lady should have, but thee was brought without. We will be taking measurements for proper clothing, and providing what we may in the meantime. There must be little things as well, scissors for thy nails, a brush for thy teeth, a comb for thy hair. We shall see to them.  Ah, and this be Saldis.”

She brought one of the women forward, a young one with a bright expression and dark eyes.

“She will be thy caretaker for those things a man may not comprehend.”

Saldis held up a measuring tape. “We’re going to be making you a few things, and probably altering some items we already have. If you just wear the clothes you came with every day, the stitches will tear. They don’t seem to have been very well made.”

“Yeah well, in my position in life, cheap is the name of the game.” You said.

“Allow us to change that. Please hold up your arms.”

It took longer than you expected, but you’d never had formal measurements taken before, and only Saldis and the old woman-Roskva-spoke your language. You took care to inform them that your weight would likely be changing, as you were coming back to health after a long illness, and they agreed to add a few inches here and there. When they left, Saldis gave you a pad of paper, and told you to write anything you needed her to know on it.

“I’ve plenty to do around here, so I’ll only be able to check in a few times a day.” She said. “If you aren’t here, just leave me notes, and I’ll take care of whatever it is, okay? I hope I can make your stay here more pleasant.”

“Um, thanks.” Was all you had given her in return. As a member of the servant class yourself, you had no idea how to act around a maid. It felt weird and wrong to have one. You reminded yourself that she wasn’t yours, you were her side project, and that made you feel a little better about it.

Breakfast was cold, but you didn’t mind. The oatmeal had apples chopped into it, and didn’t have to be hot to be good. Cold coffee was also acceptable. The fish oil was gross at any temperature, but apparently a permanent part of the meal, so you swallowed it as quickly as you could, wondering if gods suffered from vitamin deficiencies. How did their bodies work? Did they pee? There were toilets, so clearly they did.

They were alive, like you were. But what did that mean? If these gods lived, and had bodies, and could walk among people, did that mean they had done so before? Legends had been told about them, hundreds, thousands of years ago, so they must have.

Thor and Loki looked no older than yourself. How long had they looked like that? How old could they possibly be? More importantly, possibly most important, were they the only ones? Was Bjarkehild a goddess? Was Saldis? Was the sweet young guardsman?

And what about legends from elsewhere in the world? Were there more gods? Were they all real, just on other planets, somewhere out in space?

You stared out the window as you ate, looking over the construction. Were there hundreds of little gods out there, right now, building a city for their people? Would this become a literal heaven on earth?

“Do you practice obliviousness, to perfect it so?” Loki asked from over your shoulder. You choked on cold coffee. “Surely you can’t be that deep in thought.”

You set the drink down carefully. “You sneak around on purpose; don’t act surprised if I don’t hear you when you don’t want me to!” You said, once you’d finished coughing. “But yeah, I was thinking of something.”

“Did the ladies trouble you?” He asked, but you shook your head.

“No, they were just fine. I’m not used to being waited on, but they didn’t bother me. L-your Highness, are there other gods? If you exist, they all have to exist. Don’t they?”

“Oh. Slightly larger question than I was expecting. What would it do to your little internal world, if I were to say yes? What if I said no? What would change?”

You frowned. That was a dodge for sure. “I don’t know.” You said. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“You do that. For now, we’re due the meet with Bjarkehild. She wants to observe what happens when we…” He searched for a good word. “…Link?”

“It’s way too early in the day for that.” You protested. “I’ll be useless until evening.”

“Insinuating that you are useful in the first place.” He jeered.

“Rude!” You complained, then finished your coffee in one last gulp.

                                                                                        *****

“From the looks of it, I would think that this originated from an outside source.” Bjarkehild announced. She had examined your marks very carefully, taking all kinds of measurements, asking questions that you didn’t know how to answer; questions about magic, about your ancestry, neither of which you were familiar with.  Questions Loki didn’t seem to like, especially about his own ancestry. Bjarkehild seemed to know something about him that he really didn’t want to talk about, for all that she worded it in a subtle manner.

“What makes you say that?” Loki asked, seeming relieved that she was no longer asking about ‘his forefathers’ or his ‘previous experiences with Midgardians’.

“They are exactly the same in every dimension, from width to depth, as if you had both grabbed the same burning brand. That’s why it looks so much bigger on her hand; your hand is much larger than hers, but the mark takes up the same amount of space on both of you. She tells me that she has no history of magic, and no previous knowledge of this kind of mark. You have assured me that you have not cast this spell, and that you had also never seen this mark before either. I don’t believe it’s possible to cast such a complex spell you have no knowledge of, even by accident.”

“A fair assessment. However, there is no one else on this planet who could do this. I am coming up blank for a source of power that could do this to me.”

“Perhaps they are not on this planet. It is still possible that you have been cursed. You are not without enemies, my lord.”

Loki grimaced. “You’re not wrong. Most of my very worst enemies are dead now, but a death curse is a very powerful thing.”

“That still doesn’t explain my part in this.” You pointed out. “I’ve never been anywhere but Earth; I never met any of his enemies. How could I possibly be involved in a death curse against him?”

“And besides, I do not think ‘May you be tied to the life of a human woman’ is the kind of curse any of them would have used.” Loki pointed out. “However, this world is very large, and very old. There are many sources and forms of magic that were developed and lost here; this could simply be one of those, coming out of dormancy.”

“It’s still so hard to believe that real magic once existed here.” You said.

“Oh, it still exists. There’s at least one school that has been continuously running for several thousand years.” Loki said. “That wizard you saw yesterday is one of them. Some forms of magic might return, some might be newly invented, and some might remain lost forever, but it was always here. We taught our own magic to your kind thousands of years ago, but others were already here from long before even us.”

“So this mark could be anything?” You asked, awed by the information.

“I don’t think so.” Bjarkehild said. “I believe it has to be tied to one of you, and I’m afraid it is probably you, my lord. This mark comes from a magical tradition that is directly descended from the magic our people taught to the ancestors of theirs. So I believe it is tied to you, but that it still came from a source outside of you. Your presence was very likely nothing more than a catalyst. Yours too, ____. We still don’t know what role you may play in this.” She sighed. “If only we knew your ancestry further back than your grandmother.”

“I wish I did too.” You said. “But gramma really didn’t get along with her family. She never talked about them, and none of them ever tried to contact us, so I don’t even know if any of them are still alive. She even changed her name.”

“Sometimes family does unforgiveable things.” Loki said softly. “Sometimes it all becomes such a mess that you really can’t ever go back.”

You shot him a curious look while Bjarkehild pretended not to have heard him.

“I would like you to connect so that I can see exactly what happens.” She said. “Are you comfortable with doing that?”

Loki shrugged.

“Not exactly.” You said. “But I won’t say no. It’s just really weird, that’s all.”

“Whenever you’re ready.” She said.

Loki held out his hand to you, expectantly, as if he’d done it a hundred times before. You didn’t want to bring it up, but this was a part of what made it weird for you. The intimacy, with him specifically. Maybe it would be different if he was somebody else, or if you’d actually had a date with anyone in the past few years. But men had been less important than work, and they had mostly gone for Tara anyway. And though Loki had been somewhat absolved in your eyes, you were still far from any kind of easy trust.

You hesitantly slipped your hand into his. He curled his fingers around yours, bringing your palms together. The link sparked instantly, runes glowing bright blue, spreading up your arms. Bjarkehild  began writing them down as quickly as she could.

“What does it feel like?” She asked, pointing at you.

“Like I’m being filled up too much.” You gasped. “Like there’s just too much in me, too much blood, or too much air, something like that. Like my skin is too small. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s uncomfortable. My whole body’s too tight. It’s in my eye, and it’s hard to see. Can’t concentrate. Buzzing’s too big, I can’t…I can’t!”

“Alright, let go.” She commanded, and Loki released you. You slumped against him, and he sniffed in disdain, but didn’t shove you off. Bjarkehild would probably yell at him if he did.

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“Just give her a moment.” Loki assured her. “The effect of it seems to muddle her brain, but she will recover shortly. She will probably require food. Mortal bodies have a limited energy reserve.”

“I see.” She called for someone you thought was a nurse, and sent her for a snack. “Now for you; what is this like for you?”

“Not altogether dissimilar to what it is for her.” He said. “She has no experience in manipulating magical energies, so it is much harder on her. But it does feel rather like a sponge being filled up. Like light finding its way into every little space and trying to leak out when there is no more room. I don’t find it all that unpleasant, but I’ve found that if I let it go on for too long, it can be overwhelming. The energy is…large, but not heavy? Rather like a fog bank or a strong wind. It is difficult to transmute or manipulate, but I believe that I can. It still feels somewhat familiar. I must have come into contact with similar energies before, but I still cannot identify it.”

The junior healer returned bearing a plate stacked up with buttered slices of that dark bread you were growing so fond of. You ate three without stopping, then sheepishly offered the plate to the others. Loki waved it away, and Bjarkehild declined with amusement.

“Are you ready to try again?” She asked.

“I guess so?” You didn’t know how much of this you could actually take, but with a sorcerer and the senior healer watching you, you were pretty sure nothing that bad would happen.

Loki casually took your hand again.

“Now try to push to power back down into your hands.” Bjarkehild instructed.

“I don’t know how to-“You started to say, when you felt Loki push, and the power slammed into you. It felt as if your head would come off your shoulders.

You were on the ground, though you didn’t recall falling. The plate-and the bread-was in little pieces all around you. Loki and Bjarkehild knelt beside you, Bjarkehild lifting you effortlessly in her arms-so strong, like all Asgardians, Loki checking your eyes, your face, looking for any sharp fragments of plate that might have pierced your skin.

“We’re going to call that enough for today.” Bjarkehild said, finding a bed to lay you down on.

“I thought something like this might happen, if she got overfilled.” Loki said, the words coming out fast. He was scratching at his palm. “I didn’t know she would be so…receptive. I didn’t mean for that to happen, I thought there would be some kind of blockage or resistance, some kind of natural defense to the flow of power.”

“Obviously, you didn’t mean to.” Bjarkehild assured him. “But now we know we have to act as if we’re dealing with a first day student. She has no defenses, no control, no experience at all. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that in the first place. How do you feel, dear?” She asked you. “Do you hurt at all?”

“I don’t know.” You said, barely able to speak above a whisper. “I don’t understand what happened.”

“You took in too much energy at once.” Loki explained. “Your body converted it in order to protect yourself, but not very well. I did not know that you couldn’t push back. I’m not used to working with such inexperienced people.”

Again, not an apology, but close.

“Never knew magic was real before.” You said. “Never had a chance to get experienced. I’m sorry. I think I dropped the plate.”

“You didn’t exactly drop it.” Bjarkehild said. “What did happen there?” She asked Loki.

“Well, when I pushed the power into her, a little of my own went with it. I saw her manifest the energy outside of herself, into the plate and bread.”

“And that made it explode?” Bjarkehild asked.

“It exploded?” You repeated.

He shook his head. “No. The power found all the little structural weaknesses, the tiny cracks, the bubbles, the imperfections. Then it filled them in and sort of…pushed them apart . No heat or fire, just a good, hard shove to the weak points. That was just not a very well made plate, it seems. But don’t worry about that; it was not your fault.”

“You should rest for now, at least until we’re sure there’s no damage.” Bjarkehild directed. “I’ll send Ulfrun back out for more bread. Tell us if you feel anything unusual.”

You wanted to say that everything was unusual, but you were already drifting off.

                                                                              *****

 “She has magical aptitude.” Loki said, once it was obvious you were asleep. “That opens up some possibilities.”

“That must be terribly rare among humans, for her to not know it.” Bjarkehild said.

“Not necessarily.” Thor said. “There are a lot more of them than there are of us. Things get lost.”

Bjarkehild jumped. “Your majesty?” The king followed behind Ulfrun, carrying a plate of dried stockfish.

“I heard your healer here speaking with the kitchen staff about exploding plates. I thought it sounded a bit interesting.”

Loki translated that quickly. I heard my brother might be getting into trouble again, so I came to check in on him. He fixed the junior healer with a dry stare. She did not meet his gaze. He knew her family, knew they did not really approve of him. Was she spreading rumors deliberately, or was she just a harmless gossip?

Thor set the plate down and took a seat, while Ulfrun hastily took her leave.

“The thing about humans, is that there’s over seven billion of them.” Thor said. “And they all used to at least believe in magic. It still exists here, but it’s a lot more rare that any of them gets the opportunity to learn. Magic may not be much more common among our people, but there are a great deal fewer of us, and that makes it so much easier to find out who can use it and who can’t. A human might go their entire life without finding out they have the ability. Generations might pass without a single sorcerer being trained. There may be a much larger number of magical humans than all our people put together, but the percentage compared to the rest is so low, that finding one is probably quite rare.”

“Perhaps that’s why this was possible in the first place.” Loki mused, gazing at his palm. “Latent magic that she never would have known she possessed, if not for one chance meeting. I wonder how many there really are?”

If humanity had not stopped training their mages, the Battle of New York might have gone very differently. Hel, he might not have gone any further than Stuttgart. Even a master could be overwhelmed by amateurs if there were enough of them, and even if only three percent of the population had magical potential, that was still several hundreds of thousands that could be mustered to defend the planet.  

“They are going to start figuring it out.” Thor said. “Humans are insatiably curious beings, trust me.  Once that bilgesnipe’s out of the bag, there will be no going back. So, what actually happened here? Your healer seemed rather frightened by our little mortals’ sudden ability to destroy dishes.”

“Just a small incident with her capacity to hold energy, that’s all.” Bjarkehild told him. “It discharged into the plate. She’s resting now. No sense in pushing her too far.”

You stirred in your sleep, shivering. Loki heard his name fall from your lips once, and he was standing by your side in the next moment. You weren’t awake, but you were shivering hard, and paler than you should have been. He drew the blanket up further around your shoulders, but it didn’t seem to help.

“Bjarkehild.” He called, though she and Thor were already there, already trying to help.

“Magical exhaustion.” Bjarkehild suggested. “Her body isn’t used to it. Plus, she’s more fragile than we are.”

So this was his fault. Grand. Would he ever stop accidentally inflicting suffering?

“_____, can you hear me?” He asked softly. “You called for me. Here I am.” It was the first time you had called him by name, and you weren’t even awake. He patted your cheek to see if you would wake.

You calmed at his touch, the shaking subsiding.

“Keep doing that.” Thor encouraged. Loki rolled his eyes.

“No, I think I’ll stop and just let her shake out of the bed. Of course I’m going to keep doing it!”

“All right, how are you doing this?” Bjarkehild asked. “Normally, a person suffering magical exhaustion just has to rest and deal with the side effects. What are you doing differently?”

“It has to do with the link we have through the mark.” Loki explained. “When I found her, we were both feeling rather rough, but she was much worse off. It was closeness, especially touch that gave us our health back. I do not know why, and I really don’t like it. I don’t need my continued existence linked directly to some weak little thing who can die so easily.”

You took that moment to snuggle into his hand. Bjarkehild almost managed to mask the sound she made, but Thor didn’t even try to hide his expression. Loki pressed his lips tightly together, daring either of them to say anything. He knew they had both labeled you as ‘cute’, like a small animal, and he wanted no part of it. He didn’t want the attachment to so transient a life. Besides, you weren’t cute. You had tried to break his nose!

“She seems to be responding well.” Bjarkehild pointed out.

“Only because she is asleep.” Loki said. “Otherwise she would be steeped in distrust over my touch, and wiser for it.”

“And you, my lord?” She asked, notebook ready. “Does this affect you in any way? Does it feel draining? Empowering? Calming?”

“I feel…better? Like when you walk into a room and something smells very nice, and it uplifts you? It’s rather like that.  Gentle. Subtle, but it makes me feel…just better. However, I cannot just trail her around behind me, holding her hand like a child all day.”

“I’m sure we can schedule you in some healthy hand-holding time.” Thor said, almost teasing, but Loki only glared. When he finally removed his hand, you made a little noise, but did not resume shivering.

“Well, it looks like she will be staying here for a little while. What else is on the itinerary today?” Loki asked, as if seeking an escape from the soft moment.

“More discussions with the environmental specialists.” Thor said. “Building regulations, what can and can’t be done on the land, habitat conservation, and so on.”

“Sounds perfect. Let’s go.” Loki agreed, and exited with his brother close behind, leaving Bjarkehild to go over her notes.

[astouract]

Dec 25th | Snowed In 🎄

Synopsis: When the airport closes due to a major snowfall, you have no choice but to stay at Stark Tower over Christmas. You weren’t expecting there to be two in the tower over the holiday. . .

Words: 2,306

Warnings: smut, dom!Loki

You took the last shirt out of your suitcase and zipped it back up with a heavy sigh, lifting it off of your bed to slide it back into the closet. You’d gotten up before the sun this morning to go to the airport and catch a flight to your parents’ house for Christmas Day, but as soon as you stepped outside you realized that it wasn’t going to happen.

To start, you could barely push your door open enough to get outside due to the mass amounts of snow that had fallen. The roads looked like the plows had just given up hours ago, and the ice crystals were still falling from the bleak winter sky. You’d woken your parents up with a frustrated phone call that resulted in everyone agreeing they’d rather have you safe than home for Christmas.

Stark Tower was empty, Thor was needed in Asgard and Loki had to go with him—Thor couldn’t leave him here alone. Everyone else was wherever they go for the holidays, which left you in Stark Tower, snowed in and alone on Christmas.

With another dramatic sigh, you scooped up your blanket and headed towards the living room. You’d already decorated the space, so you thought you might watch some Christmas movies instead. It was almost too quiet as you shuffled into the kitchen, grabbing a mug to make hot chocolate for yourself. Even though you were snowed in and couldn’t make it home, you weren’t just going to mope around—it was Christmas and it only comes once a year—you might as well enjoy it to the best of your abilities.

“What are you doing?” Came a low, smooth drawl from behind you, causing you to flinch so suddenly that you almost dropped the mug of cocoa onto the kitchen tile.

Loki was leaning against the doorframe, a knowing smile gracing his lips as he likely listened in on your thoughts. You both loved and hated when he did that, it was nice for silent communication but so inconvenient at other times—you were just friends, after all, but that didn’t mean that you never longed for more. You knew that he knew, lingering stares from his blue eyes telling you that he could hear the dirty fantasies playing out in your head at the worst times.

“It’s a shame, the airport being closed.” Loki’s words brought you back into reality and out of your maze of thoughts.

“Wha-what are you doing here?“ You stammered, desperately searching for your voice again. And how did he know about your flight?

He brushed a tuft of raven hair out of his face. “Didn’t my brother tell you?”

You shook your head stupidly and Loki sighed in annoyance at Thor. “He returned to Asgard this morning, leaving me here with you so you can babysit me.”

You offered a sympathetic smile—Loki had truly, honestly changed and had come so far. You just wished others could see that too, but they were unable to look under the surface like you could.

“How did he know I wasn’t leaving?” You asked curiously, your hot chocolate quickly forgotten.

Loki shrugged carelessly as you slipped past him to retreat back to the living room,  not sure what your plans were now that you weren’t actually alone.

“He had to have known,” you called over your shoulder, noticing that he had begun to follow. “Or you could’ve ended up alone here like I thought I was.”

You plopped down onto the sofa, patting the corner seat for Loki to sit in, to which he hesitantly obliged. You draped your blanket across both of your laps, not caring if he wanted it or not—it was Christmas, damnit.

“I was planning on watching some movies, so if you’re opposed to holiday films I suggest you leave now or forever hold your peace.” You looked up to Loki, who was already looking down at you with a sort of fondness in his blue eyes.

He shook his head, shifting to get comfortable on the sofa. “I don’t mind.”

The first movie you put on was White Christmas, a film you and your mother used to watch every year when you were younger and still living at home. You didn’t think it would be the kind of movie Loki would like, but he seemed interested enough in it as you settled yourself a little closer to him than usual. Maybe it was the Christmas decorations or the fact that it was the butt-crack of dawn on Christmas Day, but there was something especially alluring about Loki today and you didn’t care to keep your distance.

It didn’t take you long to lose focus on the movie, your thoughts wandering to other things like your cold hot chocolate waiting for you in the kitchen, or the “war criminal” who you were curled up against.

“Dancing soon becomes romancing?” Loki repeated a line from the film, looking to you with a quirked brow. “Is that so?”

You nodded with a shrug. “Sure, I’d like to think so.” You’d never really danced with anyone you gave a crap about, so you didn’t know from personal experience, but you didn’t doubt that the phrase was true.

Loki hummed. “You’ve never danced with anyone?”

You rolled your eyes with a sigh, realizing immediately that he was listening in on your thoughts. “Not really,” you started, noticing the glimmer of something flash through his eyes. Mischief or excitement, you weren’t sure, but you held a finger up to stop him before he could speak.

“And don’t ask me to dance, I‘m a mess.” After you’d decided to stay at the tower, you’d gotten out of your nice clothes and changed back into a pair of faded black leggings, a sweatshirt that was two sizes too big, and you’d thrown your hair up into the messiest bun you’d ever seen.

“You don’t look like a mess,” Loki countered softly, bringing his hand down to graze his index finger across your cheek.

“You’re too good at lying,” You teased, trying and failing to tear your eyes away from his mouth as he wet his lips.

His eyes searched yours, and you couldn’t help but lose yourself in them. Those pure blue eyes had seen so many things, had experienced more then you could ever withstand. And those pure blue eyes were staring at you with what you hoped was longing or adoration.

“I’m not lying,” He murmured like an afterthought, “You look like a goddess.”

You almost laughed out loud, but when you brought your gaze back up to meet his, you saw how painstakingly close you were to him and it sent a wave of need over you.

Just friends.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked lowly, and just like your cocoa, the movie was suddenly forgotten.

His pink tongue peeled out to swipe across his lips as he gazed at you in anticipation, and God he looked so kissable.

You’d agreed.

“That’s a dangerous question,” you answered, wanting nothing more than to just climb on top of him and do what you’d wanted to for months.

It’s easier as friends.

Frustrated, you rose to your feet, mumbling something about your hot chocolate waiting in the kitchen when you felt his cool hand wrap around your wrist. In a second he’d risen to his feet and was standing less than an inch away, so close that you were sure he could hear your hammering heartbeat.

Why couldn’t you let it go?

“It is Christmas, my dear. Tell me, what is it that you want most?” His blue eyes pierced your soul, looking right through you and making you feel as if he knew your darkest secret.

He hooked his finger under your chin to gently raise your face to look at him, dragging his other hand down your arm and to your waist. You were already practically melting from his touch, and resisting the ache for him was taking everything you had.

Does he know how much you want him?

He moved his hands agonizingly slowly down to the hem of your shirt, where his hands slipped under the back of it. His cool skin on yours drew a slight gasp from your lips, one that seemed to urge him on as his fingers met the clasps of your bra. He expertly unhooked it and let the entirely-too-unattractive piece of material fall to the ground as you watched in shock.

Just friends. . .

. . . Right?

His eyes searched yours for what you swore was permission—he wanted the green light.

“Loki. . .” You’d agreed that this thing between the two of you couldn’t go anywhere, that it would only lead to heartbreak and chaos.

But you loved the way his raven hair framed his pale face, the way his pure blue eyes gazed at you like there was nobody he’d rather be spending his time with.

Fuck it.

You practically pounced on him, taking him by his shirt and pulling him in to crash your lips onto his. His hold on your waist tightened, and he quickly spun you around to push you against the wall. He wanted control and you were more than damn happy to give it to him, your breath hitching as his hands wandered up your stomach and to your breasts, pausing to brush his thumbs over the hardened peaks.

“Tell me if I go to far,” He panted, breaking away from your mouth to bring his lips to your neck. “But I can’t promise I’ll be able to stop.”

He cupped your breasts, squeezing them roughly and kneading them as his skilled lips left burning proof of his presence on your skin. Your hands were in his hair, and when he nipped at your neck, you tugged on the silken strands and drew out a moan from deep in his throat.

“Then don’t,” You breathed, “Don’t stop.”

With a simple wave of his hand, your pants disappeared in a green shimmer, leaving you in just your panties and sweatshirt. Loki didn’t waste a second, dragging his hand down to the waistband of your significantly more attractive panties. He pushed his fingertips underneath, pulling away from your marked neck to look at you in question. He was practically begging, you could see it in his dilated, lust-filled eyes.

You nodded frantically, and you felt his long finger swipe up your arousal as you bucked your hips for more friction. Loki wedged his thigh between your legs, his hard length pressing into your hip as you ground down into him.

“You’re so wet,” He groaned in your ear, “And all for me.” He was teasing you, dragging his finger to trace around the area where you needed him most, leaving you a whimpering mess in between him and the cold wall.

He suddenly pushed two fingers inside of you, and you cried out as you rested your head back against the wall. He caught your lips in his own, your tongues brushing against each other in a sinful dance.

Every curl of his fingers sent another wave of pleasure to your abdomen, and your arousal and the look in his eyes was almost making you lightheaded. You didn’t think this would ever happen but God, it felt so good.

“I’m close,” you rasped, the pressure building up and bringing you closer and closer to the edge. But just when you were about to fall, Loki pulled away with a smug  grin.

He gazed right into your eyes as he lifted his fingers to his mouth, dipping each one past his lips and sucking at it attentively.

“Please,” you whimpered, bucking your hips against his clothed thigh.

With a wave of his hand, the rest of both yours and Loki’s clothes vanished in a green haze, freeing the erection that had been straining in his pants.

“Please what?” He asked lowly, taking your leg and guiding it to rest over his hip. He held himself at your entrance, pushing just the tip into you until you were squirming against him for more.

“My gods, Loki, fuck me!”

That was it. He suddenly slammed into you, giving you no time to adjust to how big he was before pulling out almost completely and crashing back into you.

“Ah. . . Loki,” You stammered, your fingernails making half-moons into the skin of his toned back. With your leg over his hip he had you right where he wanted you, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.

“Fuck, (Y/N), you’re so tight.”

He released a breathy moan when you curled your fingers in his hair, giving a rough tug before throwing your head back. His hands on you felt like fire, leaving scorch marks everywhere he touched, but you didn’t care if you got burned.

Heat gathered in your abdomen as your muscles began to tighten, and you could tell by Loki’s erratic thrusts that he was getting close too. You released his hair, gripping at his shoulders instead as the pressure built up inside you until you came toppling over the edge.

Loki hissed and pounded into you relentlessly as he chased after his own release, his fingers pressing bruises into your leg. With an almost animalistic moan, he spilled himself inside of you, breathing heavily and bracing himself against the wall with his one free hand. You could feel his seed dripping out of you, running slowly down the inside of your thigh as he collected himself again.

He locked his lips with yours in a sweet, passionate kiss before flicking his wrist yet again—but this time he had moved you to the bathroom.

“Fancy a shower?” He asked smugly, pulling you into the steaming water before you had a chance to answer.

[subasekabang]

Joshua’s 6-Step Plan to Becoming a Vampire, Chapter 4

Author: Matt

Rating: T

Word Count: 7600; this chapter- 1666

Pairings/Characters: Josh/Neku, side Shiki/Eri; Joshua, Neku, Rhyme, Beat, Shiki, Eri

Warnings: Vampires, Blood

Summary: Joshua Decides to take over a coven cause he's bored. As you do.

Chapter 4

Immortal time God damn it

“Beat didn’t come home last night,” was the message Joshua awoke to the next morning. He squinted at the time displayed in the corner of the screen, then plopped it back on the bed beside his pillow, burying his face with the full intention of going back to sleep. Why would she send him that? He had an idea but was hoping it wasn’t correct.

Unfortunately his phone buzzed again a second later. He considered ignoring it, but that would not win him any points.

  “Go look for him please.” Could he claim he had school? No, Rhyme knew he frequently skipped without any repercussions. One of the perks of having absent parents. They would just write you a sick note without a second thought.

“Alright….” Slamming his face into the pillow he groaned and enjoyed his last few seconds of warmth and comfort before he threw off the cocoon of blankets he slept under, and was greeted by a shock of cold air.

Where would Beat go? Was the first question he asked himself. He didn’t know the boy well, so it put him at a disadvantage. He liked bad music, skateboarding and ummmmm….. Maybe he should start at the skatepark.

He looked around the area. There were a few other people there. Kids, probably skipping like he was at that moment. It was surprisingly well kept as well. The kind of skatepark you got if the place it was in had the money for an actual skatepark and then continued to have that money to upkeep it, instead of letting it go to shit, then paving over it to make a shitty park only the local old people would want to use, and then complain about the amount of youth continuing to visit their old spot.

If Beat were alive he would hide. He would need to. Even though they could deal with a small amount of indirect sunlight, it wouldn’t be for long. The sun had already been beating down on this pavement for at least a few hours, meaning he would have needed to get out of it. There weren’t many trees around and they didn’t provide a very great amount of shade. So he moved on to playground equipment that was a few steps away.

He wasn’t there either. Not that this stuff provided enough shade anyway. There was  no way he would have gotten stuck here. Joshua assumed he would have at least have tried to head home.

Maybe he was dead, er... More dead, or hiding in a bush somewhere.

Turning to head back and trace a possible route back to the house, he spied a small building. Some toilets; tucked away near the edge of the area. It was a simple brick structure with a tree beside it, which was doing an absolute shit job of hiding the building more than three times its size.

Approaching the building he stepped into the dimly lit bathroom. Stalls lined one wall of the poorly kept space, a long mirror stretched across the opposite side with counters and sinks below it. A single hand dryer sat near the entrance. The window was blocked up with what looked like a shirt, and just below it near the handicap stall he could see the edges of a sweater poking out.

“Hello?”

Someone moved, but didn’t say anything.

“Beat, is that you?”

“Yeah, what you want?” Well, this went faster than he expected. He may even be able to make it back in time for his afternoon classes. Or have a look for that fucking library. One of these things felt like a far better use of his time as far as he was concerned.

“Rhyme messaged me very early this morning, telling me to come look for you.” Which was all she had asked. He didn’t really need to do this part.

“What does she want?”

“I don’t know. She’s worried about you. Probably.” He did vanish and not come home. He supposed being worried about her brother being dead was most likely normal. In all honesty he was surprised that Beat had lasted as long as he did. Beat finally opened the door revealing what seemed to be a makeshift bedroom. Joshua frowned at that. He barely wanted to be walking on these floors let alone sleeping on them.

“Well she doesn’t have to worry, ‘cause I’m starting my own coven.” He seemed proud of himself for that. He was confident in his terrible choices, he had to at least give that to him.

“Why?” Joshua all but sighed.

“Cause I’m sick of it. No one takes me seriously.”

“Maybe ‘cause you run away to start covens in gross public bathrooms?”

“Whatever man. My coven is gonna be great one day.” Beat turned and sat back onto his very worn sleeping bag.

“So you’re gonna upgrade to… what? A shed? A slightly cleaner bathroom?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Just go home. You’re sister is upset and, presumably, so is everyone else.”

  “They aren’t.”

  “Well, hopefully they wouldn’t have dragged me out of bed otherwise.”

Beat ignored him so he shrugged and left the bathroom, happy to be away from the stench.

  “He started a coven in the skatepark bathroom,” He messaged Rhyme as he walked towards downtown. The library had to be somewhere around there right?

  Once evening hit, he considered his options. He had given up his search fairly quickly, instead sitting at a small coffee shop and sipping not-coffee as he texted Neku. Neku was probably not awake yet but that wasn’t about to stop him. Besides, he would wake up if his phone went off enough times.

  “What.” Nice. Joshua grinned.

  “Hows my dear sweet Neku today?”

  “Fine, ‘till you decided to wake me up.” To be fair, he had only sent like three messages. What, did he actually have his ringer turned on or something? Joshua had long forgotten what his ringtone, or any tone really, was on his phone as it had not been off vibrate since the day he got it.

  “I just wanted to make sure you were sleeping well.<3” Grinning, Joshua took a bite of his cookie.

  “I hate you.”

  “I love you too.” He was honestly surprised that Neku had given him his number. But in the past few weeks, they had been getting along slightly better than they had at the start. Not by much, but that wasn’t hard, as at the beginning it had been not at all.

“Thanks Joshua.” That was from Rhyme. He checked the time of the message, thinking he must have missed it, but no. It had been sent only a moment before, when his previous message to her had been over an hour ago. Huh.

That evening, after a day of window shopping instead of going to school, Joshua made his way to the now-familiar house, following the same path Neku had taken the first night they had met. The yard was getting overgrown, and the last thing he wanted to do was mow it again. Even if it was his job. He didn’t chores at home, why should he here? The flowers were getting weeds too. Sighing, he ignored the mess and continued inside.

“Josh, hey.” The entire group was seated in the living room, movies spilled out on the floor. Shiki waved at him from her spot beside the pile. Joshua hadn’t owned a physical copy of a movie in years. He had quickly switched to digital when the option became available.

“Oh everyone’s here tonight,” he stated, seeing Beat back in the corner playing a game of some sort. Rhyme must have been able to talk him into returning home after all. Either that or he was very good with people, which, from previous experience, wasn’t likely. Rhyme really did know how to deal with her brother. He was surprised she hadn’t been able to get him home herself.

“We were just talking about you.”

“Only good things I hope.”

“Of course,” Neku said sarcastically, and Joshua took the seat beside him on the couch. He didn’t say anything though, letting Joshua sit close to him. Not getting a reaction, Joshua slid closer. This time he did get a reaction. Neku gave him a slight smile, then looked back at the pile of movies Eri and Shiki were digging through. Confused and feeling his cheeks betray him, he stared down the TV stand, now embarrassed but also refusing to move because he had pride. Neku was not going to win this.

“Alright. Movie choices are these.” Eri held up two movies he could not see the titles of so he just pointed at one.

“The left one.”

“Your movie choices are as bad as your personality,” Neku said, getting a laugh from Eri.

“Neku don’t be mean, I like this movie.”

“Again, bad movie choices.”

  Sadly for Neku, that argument ended with that movie getting every vote but his, meaning they watched it, and it was bad. Luckily it was bad in a funny way. Possibly on purpose, even though Joshua wasn’t quite sure about that. Still, it was a nice evening. Maybe this friend thing wasn’t so bad after all.

  It was difficult though. As he sat here watching a movie amongst the group, feeling Neku’s arm behind snake its way around his shoulders, he realised he couldn’t go through with it. He couldn’t betray them after all. At some point he had managed to make friends despite his best efforts otherwise.

Scrapping the whole plan he ignored the arm, doing his best to not acknowledge it, and instead enjoy his night despite his plans going down the drain. Maybe just hanging out with them for the rest of a mortal life wouldn’t be so bad afterall.

[littledreamybeth]

Miserable

Let me break your heart with this one! Here is the continuation to “The letter”! Let me know about your thoughts! Much love to everyone! (Picture is not mine!)

Miserable.

One single word was enough to define how Harry felt.

Miserable. Every day, every night.

Harry was dying inside. There was no cure to his broken and fragile heart other than the woman he loved with his all being. But she was gone and Harry had no idea about her whereabouts.

After she had left him with nothing more than a letter, Harry went totally nuts. His first instinct was to find her. He was determined to find her. There was no place he had disregarded when he went on his mission to find her. He had looked at her apartment but she did not open the door whilst Harry’s desperate attempts. Either she ignored him intentionally or she really wasn’t there. Where had she been then? Every day he had waited at the parking spot of her college exactly at the same time she would leave just to see a little glimpse of her but she never came out. It seemed like she completely disappeared from earth. Harry became more and more frustrated. What if something had happened to her? He didn’t want to imagine the worst.

However, his conscience could be calmed when he met Y/N’s best friend one day- who randomly had ignored him as well- on his way to the studio. She was about to run away from him but Harry was quick enough to grab her wrist.

“Where are you going?” Harry growled at her, his fingers wrapping harshly around her sensitive skin.

“H-hi Harry! Long time no see! H-how you’re doing?” the poor and terrified young woman called Chloe asked him. If there was something you could be afraid of, than it was definitely Harry being beyond mad. He said things he didn’t actually mean but his words still would destroy you in a matter of seconds.

“Don’t dodge my question and tell me where Y/N is!” he ordered, his eyes spiting fire.

“I-I don’t know, Harry.”

“Stop lying and tell me where she is? Where is Y/N?!” His patience was wearing thin as a thread.  He just wanted to know where his love was, is that too much to ask?

“She’s out of town, Harry,” Chloe said, her voice shaking. She always had been kind of intimidated by Harry and the way he was staring at her made her wanting to crawl into a deep whole and never crawl back.

“Out of town?” The answer took him off guard. Why would Y/N leave the town?  “Where?”

“I don’t know, Harry, I swear. She just told me she wanted to sort things out. She needs time to think.”

Harry let go of her hand and shook his head in defeat. Whatever he had done to Y/N, it made her run away from him and the very thought of it hurt so damn much. He left Chloe standing in the middle of the street, not even telling her goodbye.

Knowing she was fine didn’t make him think about her any less. There were still unanswered questions in his mind and Harry couldn’t comprehend why she had left him. They were so happy and so much in love and Y/N never seemed to make an attempt to quit things. Many times she had declared her unconditional love for him, promising him to never part from each other and to stay together forever. Harry understood her feelings, the things she had written in the letter seemed quite logical to him but there was no reason for her to feel insecure.

Yes, Harry could have every woman he wanted however his eyes were constantly on his one and only true love. There was no one Harry could love as much as he loved Y/N. When it came to her, he was simply blind to anything else. His priority was to take care of her and make sure she was safe and Harry would never ever complain about it. He would be the biggest douche bag of the world if he did.

Months passed and there was still no sign of her. His thousands of calls and voicemails were left unanswered. He knew this was the way of her saying to get over her but he refused. He refused to believe it was over.

Her departure had left its deep mark on his life.

He once was full of life and love but now depression accompanied him throughout his daily life. His heart that used to be warm and kind was now nothing but cold as a stone. Harry had no desire to do anything anymore and working in the studio became more of an obligation instead of passion.

His friends noticed his terrible state and tried to help him as much as they could. Jeff advised him to write down his feelings, maybe it would kind of help him to get over her. So Harry did. He wrote down what his heart was telling him. And after hours and hours of thinking about her, he became a crying mess.

The tears would never stop streaming down his face. Even when Harry thought he had cried out his eyes, they would always produce more and more tears. Along with the constant crying, his drinking habits started. Harry was never a drinker, he only drank on special occasions however his terrible heartache led him to his new best friend. He tried to drown his sorrows by lots and lots of alcohol. He would do anything to get rid of that pain.

He would drink alcohol with breakfast, he would drink alcohol with lunch, he would drink alcohol with dinner and if he felt bored he would instantly escape to alcohol. He drank wine, beer, sparkling wine, vodka as if they were water. He would drink until he has overstepped his limits and passed out but the ache in his heart would still remain the day after.

Harry was slowly becoming mental and if he didn’t search for a psychiatrist he would finally lose his mind.

“My god, what did she do to you?” Anne remarked as she stood at Harry’s door, shock was visible on her face.

Harry seemed like he hadn’t left his house for days which was truly the case. His pyjama was worn out and he hadn’t changed into anything else since then. He had dark bags under his eyes due the lack of sleeping and his eyes were red and puffy and he had a hard time to keep them open because of the stinging pain he would feel. His normally clean and shaved face looked like he didn’t touch it for days. It were the nights that mostly took a toll on him. At night, all the images of him and Y/N he had memorized in his head appeared onto the surface, especially the experiences they made in the bed he was lying in. He couldn’t get used to the cold and empty space beside him every time he woke up or went to sleep. Her smell on her pillow was long gone but Harry still felt like it was lingering there.  Deep down, he wished she was still there and engulfing him with her warmth. No matter how much she had hurt him, he just wanted her back because this was the only way he could breathe again.

“Come in, mum,” Harry uttered and stepped aside to make space for his mother. Anne’s heart broke at the sight of him. Harry did not deserve this at all. The heartache.

She made herself comfortable by sitting down on his couch. According to his messy living room, Harry did not only seem to care for himself but also his house. A sigh exited her lips. It had to be stopped. The constant mourning over someone she trusted her son to had to end.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” Harry asked tiredly, running the back of his hand over his eyes.

“No,” his mother responded sternly, gesturing her broken son to come and sit down next to him. “Come here we need to talk.”

Reluctantly, Harry joined her at the couch, his eyes looking expectantly at her.

“What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Anne repeated his words unbelievingly. “Do you even know what you do to yourself?”

His expression changed to a confused one. “What do you mean?”

“You have to stop thinking about her, Harry. It’s not healthy! How many times do I have to hear you getting yourself drunk, huh? Do you know what kind of impression you do make, especially to the public who won’t let you go since the first time you stepped a foot into this business? You’re not only hurting yourself but us as well with your behaviour. Me, Gemma, your father... Y/N, she’s not coming back, my dear. When will you realise that?”

Every single world of her stabbed him like a knife right into his heart. He was aware Anne had a point but it was difficult to accept it.

“Stop saying that, mum...” he uttered, his voice quite but it was enough for Anne to notice its shakiness. “She loves me, I’m sure of it, and she will come back to me. You’ll see it.”

“Harry...” Anne sighed. “If she had loved you as much as you loved her, do you think she would have left you? No matter how insecure she was about herself, she wouldn’t do this to you. She would have known you love her more than anything else but even your love did not stop her from leaving you. And if she really cared, she would have come back to you long ago.”

“Stop mum, please stop!” the poor young man croaked, a thick lump developing in his throat and he had trouble to swallow it down.

“It’s the truth, Harry.”

“I don’t want the truth, god damn it! I want her!” he suddenly yelled. Anne flinched at the volume of his voice. Harry had never raised his voice at her.

Realising his actions, Harry broke down into heavy sobs and his mother caught him with her loving arms, bringing him to an embrace. His tears wetted the crook of her neck but Anne could care less. Her baby boy was hurting and it hurt her as well.

“I want her back, mum. I want her back.”

“I know, dear, I know.”

“Why can’t she just see that I need her, mum? Why can’t she just see that I’m dying? I can’t live without her.”

“Everything will be fine, love. I promise,“ his mother reassured him, kissing his temple constantly to calm him down.”We’re going through this together okay and I will never leave your side. Women will come and go but I’ll always be there! I will never leave you.”

Harry pressed himself more against her, just wanting to be held and kept safe. Anne did not leave that day but spend her time with her son, letting him cry on her shoulder as much as he needed. He was a man in distress and she would sacrifice her life in order to safe him.

***

“C’mon mate, you need to get out of that fucking bed!” Jeff urged him, trying to get rid of the thick blanket Harry was covered with. His friend tried to convince to go to a bar with him, just a bit of distraction would do Harry good he knew.

“No...Leave me alone...” Harry whined, cuddling more against the covers.

“Do you want to rot here or what?” Jeff remarked. “Boy, when was the last time you went out with us, hmm? Now move that big ass out of that bed and dress yourself nicely. We’re going and I don’t accept any complaints, you hear me? Or I’m going to kick your ass myself.”

Harry huffed but stood up reluctantly. “Are you happy now?”

“Absolutely and know go under the shower, you stink!”

After taking a shower and being forced to get changed into fancy pieces of clothes to look at least more presentable, Harry was dragged into Jeff’s car and they made their way to the city’s most famous pub. Most of the people Harry knew hung out there.

As soon as they entered the pub, Harry’s eyes found some familiar faces. His band mates had been there too and waved him to their table. Jeff grabbed his arm and pushed him towards them. The whole group greeted him with hugs and handshakes.

“Have you risen again from the dead?” someone asked.

Harry gave them a slight smile. ”It seems so,” he said shortly.

“I’m going to order some shots,” Jeff informed and then disappeared.

The whole night was spent again with constant drinking, talking and laughing. After a few shots, Harry was drunk but he could still realise what was going on around him. Jeff was totally down, also a couple of other friends and Harry wondered how he would get back home. Maybe he should call his bodyguard and they could pick up Jeff’s car the next day. He wanted to leave and sleep out his intoxication.

He was about to make his way out of the pub to give a call however the breath was taken from his lungs as he saw a familiar figure a few meters away from him. He may be drunk but he would never miss to identify her. She was as beautiful as he remembered. She wore navy blue dress along with heels with the same color and her soft hair that Harry loved to run his hands trough was straightened to her shoulders. The way she laughed, the way her nose would crinkle and her eyes would close made him fall in love with her over and over again.

“My angel...” Harry muttered, tear reappearing in his eyes. Finally after months, he was at the same room as her. He could breathe again. She had not discovered his presence yet. She was happily chatting with another woman in front of her, and Harry decided to make a move on her. He needed to talk things through. He needed her back in his life.

He was so close to her but something made him stop abruptly on his tracks. His eyes were glued on the hand at the curve of her back as suddenly a guy positioned himself next to her, giving her a kiss on her cheek whereupon she laughed sheepishly. She leaned herself against the man’s side as if there was a kind of familiarity between them. A deep bond.

Did it only take a few months for her to fall in love again? Did it only take her a few months to replace Harry? What about her loving him forever?

Seeing her in the arms of another man shattered his heart into thousand pieces.

It felt like the whole world stopped around him. The heartbreak was horrible enough but seeing the actions in front of him was another dimension of pain. He couldn’t stop staring at them. He couldn’t stop tearing his eyes away from them. He should be at that man’s position. He should be the one to hold her like this, to press her against his side and to give her a kiss on her soft cheek.

He should be the only one and no one else.

Harry didn’t know how long he stood there and observed them but after a time his love excused herself and left outside, probably towards the toilets. He didn’t waste a second and followed her instantly. She still didn’t notice him. As she arrived at the bathroom, she was about to press down the handle as Harry approached her.

“Does he make you happy?” he asked, hurt but curious at the same time.

Y/N’s body completely froze as she recognized the familiar sound of his voice. For a second she thought she had misheard him, imagining things however as she turned around to face him, her heart accelerated. She was heating up and the warmth rose till her cheeks. Their eyes finally made contact after months. She did not know what to say, it was like her tongue was being knotted.

She gulped before she spoke. “Harry?”

The way she said his name had still the same effect on him as always. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of his stomach. He closed his eyes, enjoying her voice.

“What are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same,” he said. There was an awkward silence between them until Harry broke it. ”Does he make you happy?” He repeated his question from before.

“Harry, I think you should really go home,” she responded, wanting to enter the bathroom but Harry grabbed her hands in his, preventing her from leaving him standing there.

“Home?” he croaked, another load of tears brimming in his eyes. His thumps ran gently along her knuckles. “How do you expect me to go home, when there’s no home without you?”

[eirenare]

FFXV: Episode Ignis — My experience (hint: a lot of feels)

Okay, so between me needing time to get out of my happy shock for Episode Ignis (gods, it’s been hard to find the will to write because I couldn’t even arrange my thoughts well enough), certain movie coming out, and the fact that I usually need to wait for nighttime’s peace to write (and often inspiration and/or will are quite picky, not to mention when your brain gets blocked when it comes to writing), I took my time to finally write this, but... 

Here I go!

[22/12/2017: EDITED THIS POST TO HIGHLIGHT NAMES, CHECK PUNCTUATION AND TAGS, AND EDIT MISTAKES.]

I would like to start by saying that Episode Ignis gave me way more than I would have EVER expected. Like, really. I expected for it to be a great DLC, but the experience exceeded that word easily: it was EVERYTHING. And it was everything because it HAD everything.

I’m still not over it, days later. Damn, I’ve even dreamt with it two times (and I remember almost nothing, but I think Ravus was in both lol).

I was sooo hyped for Episode Ignis that I started playing it a little after midnight and I ended up... AT 6 AM. And I had to wake up in theory at, like, 9 AM. But that night, nothing else mattered outside this DLC and, DAMN, what a night. Totally, absolutely worth it to spend so much hours playing it and losing sleep. I had a great time, and oh gods, some parts had me so excited.

I mentioned this already in my non-spoiler comment about Episode Ignis, but... I expected to cry more than I did in the end. For years, I’ve been a person that cried way too easily when watching movies, playing videogames, reading... Like, really, I tended to cry so much. I often was an emotional mess, I would sob a lot and my chest would literally hurt (if you had seen me with FFXV’s ending, oh dear...). But lately I’ve noticed that, in that regards, I’ve become... a bit “numb”. I enjoy the stories, oh gods if I do, and I still get feels (a lot), but it’s like the intensity has lowered some, and that’s something I don’t like. I miss being a crybaby about these things, damn.

During Episode Ignis, if I recall well there was only one time in which I cried, and that was at the end of the original route of the DLC, when Ignis tells Noctis about “sharing the load”. My goodness, Iggy, you’re such a good, great man...

But well, the thing is, I may have not cried much when I played Episode Ignis, BUT the excitement, the feels, the emotion were there. 

I would sometimes jump a bit on the sofa out of excitement, for example when the last scene of that amazing alternative ending was starting... A moment which also had me frantically gesticulating with my hands in the air, much like when I saw Noctis alive and sitting in the throne (I thought Ignis was just like, going to bow before an empty throne and then say something like “thank you” and cry, but OH GODS, I’m happy I was so wrong in that assumption).

I was smiling while fighting with Ignis all around Altissia and collecting items, and damn, my smile went from ear to ear during the alternative ending, ever since I saw Ravus alive in the stairs (and SMILING, Ravus ACTUALLY SMILING, that’s something beautiful and precious — although I have to admit that seeing his beard almost made me laugh a bit, it was between weird and adorable), and up until the very end of it. And what an ending, oh my goodness... That ending was EVERYTHING, and I can’t stop thinking about it. And oh gods, the addition of that camp scene at the official ending, THE FEELS...!

Oh, and I can’t stress enough how much of a “FUCK YES” it was to see Caligo die and, the best thing, by Ravus’ hand. I don’t know if anyone reading this has seen my post about Caligo, but a past trailer had a VERY creepy moment of Caligo cornering Luna when she was a child while a storm raged on outside the building they were in, and ever since I noticed that the man was Caligo I’ve been wanting so badly to see him actually die. 

On the other hand, some moments really made me frown, or be SO sad. Seeing Ravus so broken about Luna, and then lashing out at a protective and understanding Ignis... Man. MAN. And Ignis. Oh dear gods, Ignis. It was sad to see him sacrifice himself to save Noctis (Ignis is such an AMAZING character), and I worried so much that he was going to die in that alternative ending... 

Still, if there’s something that would make you picture just how much excited I was, it’s this: NON-STOP TREMBLING. 

And it was that kind of trembling that shakes all your body and that you can’t stop (it simply couldn’t be because of the low temperature though because I was warm, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito and with the heating on). I don’t know when it started but it just happened, and it didn’t end until some time after I finished the DLC at 6 AM. Basically I spent hours trembling because of my excitement, so... yeah, that was the biggest sign that I was excited, haha

Damn, my legs even were WEAK, although I didn’t notice that until I got up from the sofa. Also, I still trembled as well when I watched a livestream that same day.

But well, continuing on~

Having Ignis and Ravus as teammates was SO AMAZING. They had such synchrony when they executed movements, that was BADASS. 

And the gameplay was SO good, so smooth, so strategic while at the same time being fast! Seeing Ravus execute “Last Rites” (here in Spain the name is a reference to the boat to the othe world, though) is espectacular, and Ignis jumping like that? HELL YEAH. I didn’t use much the “Overclock” in all honesty because I loved to spam the jump, lol. The dagger system felt really amazing, and probably my favourite element for them was ice. The lightning element was exhilarating, and fire did so much damage... But I just loved the ice daggers too much, not only because of how they felt, but because it was kinda beautiful, like seeing Ignis dance lol. 

And oh my goodness, Ravus and Ignis fight together almost feel like a choreography, and I DIED at how perfectly they combine their moves.

Oh oh, and I went absolutely scavenger mode, looking out for items all around the map, haha. Going to cross the bridge to help Noctis? ... Nah, the loot man, THE LOOT. 

And Altissia... Oh my god, Altissia was amazing (although it hurt to see a place that had been so beautiful now destroyed), such a good open place to explore~ I had INSANE FUN with the hook (oh gods when I discovered that as you fall you can still use I went full Spiderman mode hahaha), and taking back territory from Niflheim. As of now, though, I haven’t picked up all the collectibles and average items, or bought these awesome glasses, or fought Noctis in the Friendly Match, but... SoonTM.

I have to say I accidentally discovered that, if you’re out ot combat and press triangle, Ignis removes and puts on his glasses, or checks them, and so on, lol. That was a cute detail. Oh, and I liked that Weskham did that little appearence! Camelia is just... well... it’s... her. I don’t like how Camelia acted, to be honest... 

Buuut well, onwards.

The music was just PERFECTION. Every theme was AMAZING. That’s an aspect I’ve loved about this DLC, it’s so very well executed! Every piece fits to perfection, and... I just have to mention this: Ardyn getting another version of his theme. One that is just SO scary... Damn, the music of this DLC was perfection.

And now, the time has come... The time to talk about characters and story. The time for DEM FEELS.

The story was just SO WELL EXECUTED. It wasn’t very long, but I felt it SO satisfactory.

Seeing Ignis so worried about Noctis really does something to your heart, like... Just how much this man cares about him? It’s overwhelming, in the good sense.

I’m glad that Ignis got to show in this DLC just how amazing of a character he is, because he deserved it. I mean, he’s shown during the game itself that he cares deeply, but in this DLC you can see just how far he’s willing to go to protect Noctis, and it’s amazing, it’s beautiful, albeit tragic. It’s not that he’s so dedicated because it’s his role to take care of the King of Light, no, but because it’s NOCTIS. He does it for the person, simply. This DLC just shows to what extent, and oh dear... The word is DEVOTION. 

Seeing Ignis not harbouring any doubt before putting the Ring of the Lucii to fight Ardyn later on is just... Wow. He goes through so much pain, through such of a sacrifice, risking his life, to protect Noctis. It’s A LOT. And, you’re going to pardon me for breaking the epic of his act, but... Ignis looks so gorgeous with his hair down and so disheveled. Not to mention that aura around him... I think the world would be “feral”.

Ignis is amazing, in every sense. He’s got a fierce, protecting soul. I don’t doubt that he was scared about what he was doing, but he cared so much for Noctis he just did it. It’s sad when he just falls to the ground besides Noctis after fighting with Ardyn, when he asks Ravus if Noctis is alright, with that tone, because he has no way of knowing by himself. I loved that Ravus talked to him like he did (being all understanding, reassuring), you can tell there’s respect after seeing what he just did. Man, I love their dynamic, even if the time they spent as comrades was short. 

And I just can NOT talk about what happened after they landed on the altar.

Pryna... Oh gods, Pryna. I wasn’t expecting that, to see the poor thing dying just before Ignis’ eyes... And sure as heck I wasn’t expecting for Pryna to show Ignis the future. That left me agape and added yet another layer of pain to Ignis... 

Gods, Ignis and Ravus deserved such a hug.

It was moving seeing Ravus so broken at Luna’s death. One sees earlier he wants to protect her badly, but this... Gods, how much of a pain must be to see a dear sibling lying dead before your eyes? I can totally understand why he lashed out like that, thoughts totally clouded by anger and grief that it’s way too heavy because not only is he grieving Luna right there, but also re-opening the wound of losing his mother. Good thing that Ignis was there to avoid another tragedy...

The fight was... pretty intense. I loved that moment in which Ignis pushed Ravus twice to avoid getting closer, it was a nice touch to the scene. And damn, Ravus really was resilient, it took a bit of time to defeat him, although I liked that fight. 

And, gods, the scene of Ravus embracing his sister, begging for her not to leave him... That was truly heartbreaking. It was his dear sister, but it’s not only that, no... With her death, he was totally and absolutely alone, and since the goal of his life seemed to be protect her, that’s gone as well. He had nothing. The poor man looked so lost and pained... 

Oh, and Ardyn. Ardyn, as always, quite the showman (and a scary one, all the more in the alternative ending, when he tells Ignis the truth and they fight). I have to admit that, for a moment, he had fooled me. I’m impressed that Ravus saw right through the disguise so easily. That means he either knows Ardyn a lot, or that Ardyn might have changed his appearence earlier before him. Or it could be he thought that Gladiolus was being way too much of an asshole and suspected of Ardyn... But, regardless of what it is, it just implies that Ravus knew back then there was something off about Ardyn. I really hope he hadn’t used his appearence change for anything fucked up related to Ravus...

I liked that you could swap point of view and move the camera during that scene with Ardyn, it was interesting. He wouldn’t have, however, killed Noctis. He needed him alive, after all... and for Ignis to get blinded. He just had to push some buttons. I can’t help but think of Ardyn’s expressions when Ignis was hellbent on putting on the ring, before it happened... It happens briefly, but the look doesn’t seem fake, just like in the train, when he talks about Noctis hurting his feelings. I would have loved to know what was going on Ardyn’s mind in these moments when his performance cracks. 

I have to admit I thought we would have the option to choose the alternative path from the start, but well, better like this, being forced to choose the original option on the first time. It would have been weird to start with the alternative universe.

Oh, and before I forget it... The soldier with Ardyn’s fedora. Gods, I automatically smiled then, it had been a funny gesture that almost made me laugh. I wasn’t expecting that at all.

The confrontation with Ardyn... Ah, yet another hard fight, but I achieved to defeat him (and, omg, that moment when he just teleports in front of Ignis, that was between awesome and scary). As I said, I loved the scene with Ravus back then. Also, Gladio almost reaching for Ignis’ hair when he’s on the ground... Bury me with feels. Bury me even more when the credits, too. Seeing Ignis so vulnerable, with Prompto and Gladio so nervous and breaking... Not to mention the scene of Ignis’ talk to Noctis. Oh, dear... I get that he wanted to protect Noctis from death (what a heavy knowledge to bear, knowing of the future...), but it wasn’t a very logical thing, to suggest Noctis to stop. Uuunless he wanted to cause Noctis to move forward.

Chapter 3 Verse 2 is... ANDLFNGLFNLDNASDAS. Or, translated to English, straightaway my death because it was SO-A-MA-ZING. Tragic. Beautiful. With a happy ending (YESSS I mean I love tragedy in fiction but this alternative ending made me soar and now I can’t stop thinking about it).

I almost forgot to say this, but... That “Mysterious Voice”...? In the credits you can see that the voice actress in every language is Luna’s voice actress, but it’s weird that they would process the voice like that AND not say it’s Luna... Not to mention that the way that voice talks isn’t very much “Luna-like”.Regardless of who it is that is talking, the only thing we know is that it’s a voice coming from the Crystal.

A thing that I haven’t mentioned earlier, and it’s very much noticeable now, is that Ardyn has been VERY hard with Ignis, and it may sound crazy but it looks as if he’s just taking it out on him. He said about speeding the process of Noctis becoming the King of Light, but isn’t Ardyn reaching important levels of aggresivity? And it’s not like his mood is the same as always, no, you can see that sometimes his perfomance craks here too, as it does when he fights Noctis in Insomnia. He reveals to Ignis who he is, though (and gods YES at least we get him explicitly saying it was his brother, something that’s good because a lot of people was still thinking who Izunia was), before attacking Ignis... And, in fact, it’s not just that he goes hard on Ignis, is that Ardyn becomes VICIOUS to unsuspected points.

The music of his 4th theme helps make him look scarier, too, and not to mention the fact that he seems to own every weapon of every descendant of his brother Izunia... The fight against Ardyn was VERY hard and tiring.

An interesting thing: while in English the options are named “sacrifice your life”, “risk your life” and “give up”, in Spanish we have that, instead of “risk your life”, the option’s named “sacrifice your senses” > “sacrifice your body” > “sacrifice your soul”, depending on if you choose that option repeatedly until only “sacrific your life” / “give up” remain.

it was sad and worrying seeing Ignis doing such sacrifices, and I seriously thought he was going to die... But, somehow, Noctis made the Crystal answer to his call in such a way that it would heal Ignis, and that was sooo much a relief. This scene was so tragic, it gave me so much feels... Gods, hearing the brothers voice their grief... And Gladiolus specially reached me. 

When I saw the group going around in the credits scene, talking to other characters everywhere, it was SO nice. I loved it, it was very nostalgic, and I love so much FFXV’s NPCs.

But the best thing was the alternative ending... *internal screaming noises of happiness*

“We walk tall — together”. YES. I loved that new version of the phrase.

Ravus being happy, and with that weird, funny yet adorable beard~ ... And SMILING. After all that shit in his whole life. Give me TEN. PLEASE.

And oh my goodness Ignis nodding to Ravus like “you’re one of us, come”, and Ravus going with them with ANOTHER SMILE. Omg. You can blame this DLC that now I headcanon that in this alternative ending Ravus is friends with the bros but specially with Ignis (I mean, Ravus was totally ALONE, he needed someone around him that could understand his pain, and who better than Ignis, that saw him at his worst). 

And in fact, I’ve started to ship both Ravus x Ignis (both one-sided and loved back), and Ignis x Noctis, apart from liking a lot BROTP Ravus/Ignis... HELP hahah. Nah, I’m kidding, don’t help me, I’m comfortable in shipping/BROTP hell lol.

The last scene... Ah, dammit. I wasn’t expecting for Noctis to be alive AT ALL, yet there he was, all majestic and amazing, with that smile on his lips. As I said, at first I thought Ignis was going to enter the throne room to do something symbolic, like saying “thank you” while crying or something, but... NOPE! And I’m so glad I was wrong.

Pfff... This DLC is PURE BEAUTY. 

It has amazing music, a good scenario, smooth gameplay, it answers some questions while it makes you question other things, but most importantly... it portrays the characters very well and gives them more deepness, and the story is solid. 

I don’t know if I’ve forgotten something, and I think I could have written this way better, or express more feeling, but well, this is what I’ve written for now, haha.

To anyone that might be reading this: thank you for checking the post, and have a nice day!

[letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked]

Seven Devils

Steve X Reader, Avengers X Reader, (Surprise Guest) X Reader

A/N: I finally re-wrote this! Thanks for being understanding with my laptop troubles! This is a part 3/3 to Holding on For Dear Life, and this series has been converted into a prequel for something that is coming (If people enjoy this, that is)! *wink* Thank you for all of the amazing people reading this, and all of the brilliant ideas! I love hearing from you! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK BECAUSE I LOVE ATTENTION LOL

(SIDE NOTE: I have very little medical knowledge and used google for the medical talk.)

Song: Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine

Warnings: Swearing (as usual), talk of suicide and self-harm, villainizing the avengers, Lots of goddamn resentment and anger, etc.

Word Count: 4210 This is SO LONG, holy shit…  

Masterlist

Part 1 // Part 2

Holy shit! I feel good. Why do I feel good? Didn’t I…?

My eyes fluttered open, looking around the empty hospital room. Okay, so I’m at the tower. Not locked up, yet. I looked around for the nurse button, spotting it on the wall next to me and tried to lift my arms – but they couldn’t get very far, because they were cuffed to the railings of the hospital bed. “What the fuck?” I rasped, throat and mouth dry from being asleep.

Seriously?

“Hello?” I tried to shout with a raspy voice, clanging my shackled wrists against the railings of the bed. I stared at the cuffs, willing my wrists to get hot and expand the metal of the cuffs so I could pull my hands out. The heat didn’t bother me as I yanked my hands through and held them until they were cooled enough to set onto the blankets, so there was not another fire.

Fuck. The fire. How long has it been since that happened? How long has it been since I tried to… I didn’t want to think about that, yet.

Where is everybody? Anybody?

Nobody had shown up, yet. They must not have heard me, but my voice was not going to let me yell, again, unless I got some water.

When the cuffs were finally cool enough, I set them on the blankets. Wait a minute, dumbass. You’re in the tower. Tell FRIDAY to get the nurse.

“FRIDAY? Can you let the nurse know that I am awake and need some water?” My voice came out quiet and strained but the AI responded quickly, and I took a minute to gather my bearings.

I tried to kill myself.

I swallowed a bunch of Oxy… So why did I feel really good? I felt strong, like I could run a marathon. The more I thought about it, I was able to control that heat in my wrists without the slightest bit of strain, as well. What the fuck did they do? I ripped the blankets off of my body, looking down and gasping at the sight of my body.

I looked great! I no longer looked sick from the drugs and homelessness. I was muscular, again. I looked better than I had ever looked. Better than I did before I stopped training.

After my initial shock, a wave of anger washed over me.

What the hell did they fucking do to me?!

“Miss Y/L/N!” A nurse came in with a smile, “You’re finally awake-”

“What the fuck did they do to me?” I growled, gesturing to my body. “How long was I out?”

Holy water cannot help you down / Hours and armies couldn’t keep me out / I don’t want your money / I don’t want your crowd / See I have to burn / Your kingdom down…

The nurse frowned, eyeing the damaged cuffs on my bed - then came over to read the monitor next to me. “You have been unconscious for approximately four months, one week, and five days. You overdosed on Oxycodone, and were given Naloxone to counteract the depression of your central nervous system and respiratory system, then we had to use activated charcoal to prevent further absorption of the drug in your system. Unfortunately, the damage to your body had already been done. Since you have a history of substance abuse, you sent yourself into liver failure.”

I tried to digest all the information as best as I could, but that was a lot to take in. “Liver failure?” She nodded, tucking the blanket back around me. “How come I feel great, then? What happened? What did they do?”

She bit her lip, breaking eye contact with me. “FRIDAY, can you please tell Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers to come to the room for further explanation?” She turned to me after FRIDAY responded, “Doctor Banner is away, or I would have him come explain himself. I have a cart full of food and water, would you like me to grab you something?”

“God, yes.” I felt like my stomach was going to ingest itself at any moment.

Halfway through the entire cart of food, there was a knock at the door. The fucking idiots have arrived. I looked up from my bowl of soup and narrowed my eyes at the sight of the men standing at the door, “What the fuck did you assholes do to me?”

They looked nervous. Rightfully so, because I was mad.

“Now, Y/n, we had to-” Steve tried to start.

“No, Steve.” I glared, setting my food down on the bedside table and rolling it slightly away from me, “I want to hear this from Tony. I don’t want to hear a fucking word come out of your mouth.”

Tony sighed, taking a step forward, “We injected you with an experimental version of the Super Soldier Serum.”

Did I hear that correctly?

“You WHAT?” I screamed, eyes widening in shock. “Why in the hell did you decide that was a good idea?”

“You were dying.” Tony huffed out a breath, “We didn’t want you to die. You were in a medically induced coma, going into liver failure. That was after you burned down a building and tried to kill yourself.” He crossed his arms, taking a deep breath, “What the hell were you thinking? Trying to kill yourself, Y/n! What the fuck!”

“No. You never gave a shit about if I lived or died before,” I pointed out, jaw getting tight with anger. “If memory serves, you guys left me on the streets to die.”

“We did not.” Tony argued, throwing his hands up, “We-”

“How many fucking times do I have to fucking say this?” I yelled, slamming a fist against the railing of the bed in anger, bending it. “You guys fucking threw me the fuck out without any way to provide for myself! I couldn’t work, I couldn’t pay rent, I couldn’t eat-”

“You found plenty of ways to get drugs, though.” Steve muttered.

“Go fuck yourself, Steve.” I glared, “I was trying to numb my fucking feelings. I don’t blame you for the substance abuse. I fucking blame you for making me feel worthless. I blame you for making me feel like a cheap whore. I blame you – all of you - for making me feel like I had no place in this group. I blame you for throwing me the fuck out like I was a piece of trash.”

Steve didn’t respond.

Tony walked over, standing at the end of my bed, “I am sorry that you feel that way, but what’s done is done. You’re enhanced, now. We need to deal with that.”

“You should have let me die.” I muttered, tears pricking my eyes. “You should have never experimented on me.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Y/n.” Tony shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets, “We have to talk about what happens next.” I raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue. “You still have to answer for your crimes. You burned down an entire building. The public doesn’t look too kindly on that.

“You’re going to have to be locked up.” He finished, breaking eye contact, “Secretary Ross will decide what to do with you during that time.”

“You’re going to leave my fate up to the man who wants me killed?” My eyes widened in shock as I clenched my fists in anger. “That’s not fucking happening.”

“You have no choice, Y/n.” Steve growled.

“The fuck I don’t.” I yelled, bringing my hands up as they grew hot, “I would rather be on the streets than be Ross’s fucking plaything.”

My hands burst into flames, and a wicked smile made its way to my face as the power in me was awakened.

Holy water cannot help you now / See I’ve had to burn your kingdom down / And no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out / I’m gonna raise the stakes, I’m gonna smoke you out…

“Y/n. Stop.” Steve raised his hand to his gun on his hip, “Or I will stop you.”

“Are you going to shoot me, Cap?” I taunted, smirking as I felt a surge of power run through my core.

I will no longer be weak. I will no longer be helpless. I will no longer feel the way I felt when I tried to kill myself. I will no longer let them have power over me. The anger in my body seemed to pulse through my veins. I could feel it consume me. The power surging through my veins felt wonderful. My whole body was buzzing. My mind was finally free of the depression and helplessness I had felt for so long. I was finally in control.

I was finally strong.

I felt the smirk turn into a full grin as I stood, flames balled up in my hands, “I would like to see you, try.”

Tony slowly backed up, and I took notice as he hit the emergency button on his watch. “Y/n, calm down. Let’s talk about this.”

“I think I’m done talking.” I let out a laugh, sounding sinister, “I suggest you let me leave.”

“I don’t think so.” Tony growled. His suit suddenly came flying into the room, attaching itself to his body piece by piece, until the helmet snapped shut over his face. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Either let me leave, or I burn your fucking building to the ground with everyone in it.” I threatened, balls of flame levitating over my hands. They grew double in size, and Steve’s eyes widened in shock.

Suddenly, I felt something else surge through my veins. A new cold feeling that I had never experienced, before. Experimenting with this energy, I let the arctic feeling consume my hands, and the balls of fire suddenly turned to moving balls of ice.

“Uh oh, Tony.” I mocked, “I have a feeling that injecting me with the serum was a big, big mistake.”

I channeled my energy, sending a surge of ice shards to Steve. They weren’t directed at any major veins or arteries, they were pointed to areas meant to incapacitate. Steve tried to throw himself out of the way, but one stuck in his arm. He groaned as he yanked the bloody shard out of his arm and sent a bullet in my direction, missing me.

Seven devils all around you / Seven devils in my house / See they were there when I woke up this morning / I’ll be dead before the day is done…

Tony made an attempt to send a blast right at me, but I rolled out of the way. “You’ll have to be faster than that, Iron Man.” I taunted, sending a blast of flame his way.

I used the distraction to sprint out of the room. I was high up in the building, so I would have to get to the stairs. FRIDAY would never let the elevator go down with me in it. When I left my room, I knew exactly where I was, and made my way down the corridors.

Alarms started screaming through the building, and the lights shut down to the red emergency lights. So that’s how you’re going to play it? Get the whole building to fight me?

Bring it on.

The first wave of agents came after me when the door to the stairs reached my view. They swarmed the corridor, weapons ready, with determined looks on their face. Sam and Wanda came ran in front of the crowd, ready to fight.

“Y/n, we can’t let you leave.” Sam called out, voice stern.

“Try and stop me.”

I came at them with ice. I knew I was going to have a hell of a time trying to get any of this passed Wanda, so I went after the agents, first. They were not expecting me to shoot jagged daggers of ice in their direction, and they spread in panic. I used the distraction to freeze Sam’s feet to the cold ground, as well as everyone else in the room.

“Nobody warned me she’s fucking Frozone, now, guys!” Sam yelled into his coms, as he tried to pull himself out of the ice.

Wanda’s hands were glowing red as she used her ability to throw me into the walls of the corridor. I had to have hit the wall hard, but I barely felt it as I regained my footing and hit her with a surge of a new feeling that was flowing through my veins.

A gust of wind blew Wanda into the wall, rendering her unconscious.

“Oh, shit!” Sam yelled into his comms, finally freeing himself with his wings. “Wanda’s down.”

“You’re next.” I grinned, using the force of the wind to blow him to the wall. Then, switching back to ice, I froze his hands and feet to the wall, keeping him contained.

I dodged the other agents, sending an explosion of fire at the door to the stairs. The door blew off the hinges, hitting the wall on the other side.

I made my way down one set of stairs before I ran into more agents. “Fuck, you guys just keep coming.” I complained, sending a gust of air, knocking them down like a bunch of bowling pins. “When will you get it?” I yelled in annoyance, knowing the Avengers had cameras on me, “You won’t stop me!”

“We can try.” A new voice came from above. A teenage voice. Peter Parker.

“They sent the kid? Seriously?” I groaned in annoyance, “I’m not hurting you, kid. I have no beef with you.”

He sent webs in my direction, pinning my body to the concrete wall of the stairwell. “You can’t leave, Y/n.”

“Did you know,” I smirked, raising the temperature my body, “that spider webs are very flammable?” I sent a blast of fire from my body, lighting the webs up into flames. The webbing melted off my hot body quickly, and I realized that I had also burnt off my gown in the process.

“Umm, umm,” Peter stammered out, unsure how to proceed with my nakedness. Poor kid. He made an attempt to move forward and fight me hand to hand, but I rolled my eyes and quickly froze him to the wall.

“Good try, kid.” I laughed, “But I’m not hurting you.”

I left him to struggle with the ice on his own, hoping he didn’t end up with frostbite in that suit.

I pursed my lips in thought as an idea popped into my head. I wonder. I focused my energy on the air around me, and I was suddenly floating. “Cool.” I manipulated the air into floating me over the railing, and down the middle of the many floors of the Avengers Tower. I could feel my stomach drop a little as I descended quickly, and cushioned my landing when I went over the railing for the first floor.

When I blasted the door open, the looks on everyone’s faces were priceless as I walked – still very naked – through the hole where the door used to be. I assessed my surroundings quickly, and saw that several agents were retreating.

I guess they are either scared, or want me alive.

Ross probably wants me alive.

That meant they wouldn’t shoot me. Good.

A sinister grin spread on my face as three large figures made their way towards me in the main lobby. Bucky, Steve, and Tony.

And now all your love will be exorcised / And we will find you saying it’s to be better now / And it’s an even sum / It’s a melody / It’s a battle cry / It’s a symphony…

“Oh, good, the three musketeers are here.” I joked, biting my lip in anticipation. “Want to see what I just learned?”

“Cut the shit, Y/n.” Bucky yelled, metal arm whirring as he approached, “You won’t win this.”

“I won’t?” I snapped my fingers, “Well damn. Here I was thinking that I was making my grand escape. Guess not.” I lifted my hands, feeling flames caress my fingers as I stared at Bucky with a mocking smile. “I guess I will just have to kick it up a notch.”

Before any of them could say anything, the flames in my hands started spark and change color. I felt a crackling surge through my veins from my feet to my fingertips – like pins and needles – and the flames changed to electricity. I shot the energy through their bodies, stunning them like a Widow’s Bite. Not enough to kill them, but enough to knock their asses to the ground.

“You were saying?” I said to their unconscious bodies.

I took a moment to stare at Steve’s unconscious body, and a wave of disappointment washed over me. This man used me. This man made me feel unwanted, depressed, heartbroken, angry… This man was not the same man from before the ice. This man didn’t have the ‘old forties charm’ – like women claimed. Or maybe he did… just not with me. He had wronged me more than any of them ever had. He had treated me the worst of all of them. I will never let anyone treat me badly, again.

“Miss Y/L/N?” Vision’s voice came from behind, making me jump.

Crap. He’s going to be hard to get rid of.

He wasn’t somebody I wanted to fight. While he had never been a friend to me, he had never actually treated me like crap. Not like Steve. Not like the rest of them.

With a sigh, I spun around, ready to fight – but he just stood there, with his arms at his sides. He wasn’t even dressed for a fight. He was in that dark sweater that he always wore. “I wished to tell you, before you left, that I apologize.” He kept his hands at his sides, “While I was never impolite to you, I also never paid attention to how the others were treating you. For that, I apologize.”

My brows pulled together, and I bit my lip in confusion. He’s apologizing? Wow. Okay? “Uhh, thanks, Vision.” I brought the electricity back into my hands, almost like holstering my weapon. “I accept your apology.”

He nodded, turning around and walking into another corridor and out of sight.

Okay?

Shaking my head, I walked over to a chair by the front desk, stealing a long, woman’s trench coat hanging off the back of one of the chairs. I shrugged it on, and the length – thankfully – was long enough to hit my knees. I couldn’t find shoes, but I needed to get the fuck out of the building. The sirens were still blaring, but I could hear a bunch of police sirens getting closer and closer. Probably Secretary Ross and the cavalry.

Walking through the front exit, I was greeted with the sight of Natasha and Clint.

They can keep me high / ‘Til I tear the walls / 'Til I save your heart / And I take your soul / And what have we done? / Can I be undone? / In the evil heart / In the evil soul…

They were just standing there, with a crowd starting to form behind them due to the alarms and the flashing lights. Natasha’s red hair was blowing gently in the brisk breeze, and she had a look of disappointment on her face.

Clint, with the same look on his face and bow in his hand, spoke first. “You need to stop, Y/n.”

I shook my head, shoving my fingers in my pockets. “I can’t. I refuse to let Ross make me his plaything. You know how he feels about me.”

“I’m not talking about that,” He sighed, the grip on his bow tightening, “I’m talking about hating us.”

A laugh ripped through me, “Are you for real, Clint?” I removed my hand from my pocket, shoving it through my long y/h/c in frustration. “You guys treat me like shit for four years of my life, make me homeless, make me feel so guilty, make me feel worthless, experiment on me… and I am supposed to just ‘stop hating you’?”

“We never treated you like shit.” Clint defended.

“BULLSHIT.” I screamed, gaining the attention of the onlookers. The sirens were growing closer. “I did nothing but try and help. I did nothing but be there for all of you during tough times. I had your backs during every mission. I tried and tried to gain everyone’s trust and friendship, and instead you all blew me off like I was nothing!” Angry tears were pricking at my eyes, but I would not let them fall. “I made one mistake. A bad mistake, but no worse than any mistakes made by the people on this fucking team. You all let Steve throw me out like I was a piece of trash!”

“I didn’t know-” Natasha tried.

“You should have known!” I cried, turning to her, “You’re a fucking spy, Nat! You both are some of the best fucking spies in the world! You should have known that I was spiraling! You should have been able to find me pretty fucking quickly! I didn’t even leave the fucking city, you just didn’t care enough to look! All I wanted was to fit in, and to have a family! You should have had my back, just like I had all of yours.”

I could see the giant SUVs coming down the streets, now.

“This team is not good.” I shook my head in defeat. “The Avengers need to be put in their fucking place.”

Clint laid a hand on Natasha’s shoulder as she went to pull out her gun, “I pulled you out of the shower, Y/n. I tried to save you, just like you saved me.”

Clint was the voice? Clint was the person who pulled me out, before I went into a coma? “Why didn’t you just let me die?” A single tear streamed down my face.

“Because I-”

Bang!

I cried out as a sharp pain radiated from my shoulder, and I dropped to my knees. Someone fucking shot me!

Hate, anger, pain… All of the negative emotions I was feeling, they raged through me like a hurricane. It seeped out of me faster than the blood from the gunshot wound. I could almost feel the fire in my eyes as I brought my hands up and let a column of fire shoot into the sky in anger.

“No, stop!” I heard Natasha yell as I stood up.

I let out a scream – one filled with so many different emotions – and felt all of my energy explode out of me, like a bomb. Everyone wearing a uniform within my sight distance got shocked unconscious. Civilians were screaming, filming on their cellphones, running, and panicking. I turned to the building, encasing the entire lower half of the Avengers building in a thick layer of ice.

I looked over around at all of the chaos and smiled, using my newfound elemental abilities to create a gust of air around me, lifting me up and through the city.

Leaving the Avengers behind me on my own terms.

-1 month later-

Sitting on the roof of an old apartment building, I pulled out a smoke, conjuring a small flame from my finger and lighting it. Blowing my smoke up towards the moon, I made the brisk, night air around me a little more bearable.

After testing out my skills in an abandoned apartment for a month, I discovered that I had all of the elements under my control. Earth, water, fire, and air. Like that cool anime I used to watch as a kid. Although, I didn’t need to do some dojo looking shit to get what I needed done. I didn’t really know anything about the electricity. I figured it had to do with lightning, or something…

“Miss Y/L/N.” A man’s voice came from next to me, breaking me from my thoughts. “I hoped I would find you here. You look lovely, as usual.”

I slowly turned my head, eyebrow raised in question, to the man sitting next to me on the edge of the rooftop. I only knew one person who fit the description of the raven haired man sitting next to me in some weird, green, armor getup.

“Loki.” I smiled, taking another drag of my cigarette, “What brings you back?”

“Unfinished business.” He smirked, light eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “Care to join me?”

“Do tell,” I stubbed out my smoke, turning to straddle the ledge of the roof and face him, “What is this ‘unfinished business you speak of?”

“Revenge to the people who have wronged us on this planet.” His smile wolfish as he stared at the sky, “Revenge to the Avengers.”

Finally, someone was speaking my lingo. Someone who hated the group as much as I did.

“I won’t kill them,” I chuckled, laying back against the ledge, legs still straddling both sides, “How do you propose we get our revenge?”

“I have a plan.” He replied, holding his hand out for me to take, “Will you join me?”

I didn’t even hesitate before lifting myself up and grasping his hand.

“I’m in.”

_____

Read the A/N at the top for more info on a possible series coming up! *wink*

TAGS: (I do forever tags, if you want to join the party!)

@mrsnegan25 @luckynumber1213 @castellandiangelo @sassyandclassyx @impossiblepizzapeace @katherynms @ros-theoldastronomer  @stressedandobsessed7771 @fandayo 

@wolvla (you didn’t ask, but you commented that you enjoyed this series so I figured you’d like to see part 3!)

BOLDED TAGS DID NOT WORK AND I WILL MESSAGE YOU! XOXO

[evanstandefensesquad-blog]

Paper Moon Part 13

MB - @thecountessakasha here once more. Part 13 is finally finished. There’s a bunch of smut in it to make up for the last chapter.

I’m going to tag a couple people who I’ve told about this and my really special love who keeps betaing this for me @evansscruff - thank you, darling.

A/N: Bucky and Steve end up at a venue that has a 40s night and meet an OFC, Melissa Rose, a singer in a local club. They both are smitten by her, and start to vie for her affections. They end up finding out more about themselves in the process.

This honestly started out as maybe a one shot but as I got going, I decided it’ll be chapters. How many? No frigging idea. This is my absolute first time writing a fic of any sort and yes I did base the OFC on myself. I hope y'all enjoy.

Word count: 3200+ because I am a wordy bitch.

Warnings: Minimal angst. Mega smut. And as always, a lil fluff.

STEVE’S POV

Bucky and I finished cleaning up the kitchen while Melissa was still in the bedroom. We could hear her tearing apart her closet and muttering to herself obviously trying to find the perfect thing to wear to the tower.

“Maybe we should go help her, man. She’s gonna drive herself crazy.” He’s running a hand through his hair and looking at me with his brows knit in worry.

I glance down the hallway as I hear the thud of shoes obviously hitting the wall. “I mean, maybe? I don’t know. I don’t know how to do this. To navigate this.”

Laughing softly, Bucky waves a hand at me. “It’s fine, Steve. I got it.” He gestures to the living room, “Maybe you can clean the rest of this place up while I help her, alright?”

“Alright. That’s sounds like a plan.” I get to work on the living room, straightening up. I didn’t intend to do a deep clean, but as I got into it, I figured I may as well. She deserves the world, but for now a nice clean apartment will do.

While cleaning, I’m also exploring. Learning more and more about her. She clearly values comfort over appearance. An overstuffed couch, two big recliners, an old oak coffee table covered in little nooks and crannies to organize things. Warm and worn hardwood floors, small lamps placed here and there give an inviting atmosphere.

Floor to ceiling windows make up the wall her couch faces. They give a perfect view of the busy city street below. The other three walls are lined with bookshelves that are stuffed to the gills with everything from classics to non-fiction tomes on the Holy Land to current newspapers and magazines.

I run my fingers over the spines of the various books as I dust, feeling as if I can get a sense of her by touching things she obviously holds dear. These books are well loved, well used.

There are pictures in frames everywhere. Family, friends, fans I assume. Her stunning wide smile is ever present in all the ones she’s in. Even those that are clearly her as a child. I love how she’s memorialized these experiences.

Making my way around my eyes land on one that gives me pause. It looks older, like a picture from my time. A beautiful young woman with dark waves, near crystalline eyes, and a small smile that looks as if she’s holding a secret.

She looks so much like Melissa.

I make a mental note to ask her about it.

New Orleans street scenes, shots of the Gulf of Mexico, fleur-de-lis, magnolias, oak trees, pelicans, and stylized skulls in the manner of Dia de Los Muertos make up most of the art pieces that join the photographs littered about her apartment. Nearly every square inch of wall and available table space is covered by something.

I spy a couple of hand woven reed baskets overflowing with spare blankets, a large standing empty ashtray by one recliner, and a huge brass hookah with what looks to be about 4 pipes is in one corner. I’ve never seen her smoke, never tasted it on her. Maybe she has it for guests.

On a little table perched beside one of the recliners is a large, messy stack of sheet music with lyrics handwritten on the pages. I gather the papers, intending to merely put them in a more orderly pile but curiosity gets the better of me and start to thumb through them.

Looking them over, I see she has written little notes for herself near the titles. “Tennessee Whiskey in the style of Chris Stapleton. At Last in the style of Etta James. Between the Bars in the style of Madeleine Peyroux. Hallelujah in the style of k. d. lang. Brave by Jhene Aiko. WWOZ by BTE.” I’m reading them aloud, wondering what they would sound like in her voice.

I come to the next one and my eyes widen, “Fucked My Way Up To the Top by Lana del Rey.” With grin and a shake of my head, I straighten the papers and set them back on the little end table.

“Find something interesting, Steve?”

I nearly jump out of my skin at the proximity of her voice. “Holy shit, Melissa. You can’t sneak up on an old man like that.”

Her head falls backwards as she gives one of her full, loud laughs, “And here I thought you were a super soldier.” She reaches out running a fingernail down my forearm.

Turning to face her, my eyes take her in. “Melissa…you look great.” I can see nearly all of her tattoos, the ones decorating her legs, her arms, her shoulders, a tiny peek of the one down her spine. My knees weaken a bit when I realize I can also see the outline of those delicious little barbells through the material of the dress.

She looks down at her dangerously low cut sundress then back up to me, her cheeks and chest flushing pink at the compliment. She hooks a thumb over her shoulder, “Bucky’s suggestion.”

I see him grinning behind her nodding his head. “As soon as I saw it, stuffed all the way in the back of the closet I might add, I knew that’s what I’d want to see her in. Seems you like it, too.”

“I do!” I grab her in my arms, spinning her around, her feet swinging off the floor. She starts laughing loudly, “Bucky help me!”

“Hey, you’re on your own, Angel. Ya gotta take the consequences for being so beautiful.”

She groans loudly at the cheesy statement. “God, y'all are dorky.” I start to laugh as I plant her back on the floor, taking note of the black strappy sandals adorning her perfectly pedicured feet.

I lean down kissing her gently, taking her a little by surprise. “I was just looking around. I love seeing all the pictures you have.” Gesturing to the one I was most curious about I continue “Who is this beautiful dame? You look an awful lot like her.”

Melissa reaches out for the picture, holding it gingerly in her hands. “My maternal grandmother. She’s the one who gifted me with her knowledge of wartime era fashion. Her and my grandfather taught me all the songs. They also taught me all the dances. Everyone in the family always said I was her spitting image.”

Bucky gives a soft hum of approval, “Then we owe her a great debt.”

She brushes her fingers tenderly over the image. “They all said it was like she’d been made again in me. I was just like her in temperament and personality. Looks, too. Except for one thing.” Her eyes meet mine. “She had ice blue eyes and I ended up with the Irish green from my father’s side.” She shrugs a little.

“And a stunning green they are. My favorite color.” I slide my hands down her arms then take her hands in mine. “Are you ready, doll? I know this is still very overwhelming for you. But we’ll be there. Right beside you. Each step of the way.”

“They’re gonna love you.” Bucky’s low voice comes out muffled as he’s taken up the position standing behind her, his lips attached to one of her exposed shoulders.

She wraps an arm around my waist resting her head on my chest, then pulls Bucky closer behind her. “If you two think you’re ready, then I’m ready. I won’t say I’m not scared. I am. But some things in life take risk. And I believe you two to be worth that risk.” Her eyes find mine as she speaks the last sentence, and I can see the worry. I can also see how sincere and how heartfelt her words are.

“Merci, Maîtresse.”

“Thank you, Angel.”

BUCKY’S POV

While I make Steve clean her apartment, I quietly slide into her bedroom. What I see makes me stop in my tracks. She has torn apart her closet, her dressers. Shoes and clothes are strewn everywhere.

She’s sitting on the floor, back against the bed looking on the verge of tears. “Angel? Melissa? Are you alright?”

Shaking her head she gestures toward the room, “I have nothing to wear. I can't… I can’t go to the tower. I can’t meet the team. They’re your family, Bucky. I need to make a good impression.” Her voice is small, soft, tinged with fear.

I sit on the floor beside her and gather her in my arms, “Hey, hey. It’s ok.” My fingers slide up the sides of neck and I cup her cheeks turning her face to mine. “Listen to me. You’re beautiful. No matter what you wear, you are beautiful. I want you to be comfortable. That’s my main concern.”

“It’s going to be enough of a shock to them about you and Steve. When they meet me and realize the part I play in this, they’re going to hate me.” She’s trembling as she says these words. “And so are your adoring fans. I just …I don’t fit the bill. Not to mention when we go public with our relationship. People won’t be able to handle it.”

I tighten my grip on her. “Melissa, we are all adults here. This is our choice. So what if people don’t like it? They don’t live our lives.” My thumbs brush her cheeks. “And Steve and I want you. More than that, we need you. Neither he nor I have felt as good in our lives as we have since you came along. It fits. You fit. You belong with us.”

She seems as if she has some reply, some counter, but she closes her mouth and just looks at me. Really looks at me. After a moment, she places her hand on my chest and shakes her head. “Oh, Bucky.”

Seeing her like this, I’m overcome. She is perfection and she just doesn’t believe it. I give a shake of my head and suddenly I’m pressing my lips to hers. Her eyes widen a second then she’s kissing me back, sighing softly into my mouth. Her small hands grab for me, tugging at my shirt.

My fingers slip into her robe, pushing it off her shoulders to let it pool around her hips. I’m groaning against her skin as I move from her lips to her jaw making my way to her chin. “How can you not see that? How can I make you understand?”

She’s melting under my touch, her fingers slipping into my hair pulling me close. My lips move against the hollow of her neck, “Everything about you makes me crave more and more.” My tongue darts out licking along her collarbone, teeth nipping at the muscle connecting her neck and shoulder.

I have never heard such delicious sounds from anyone in my life.

“Bucky…” she’s whining. “I have to get dressed, baby boy.” I slip my hand lower, the backs of my knuckles just barely brushing against the wetness between her legs.

I growl against her neck, “But you’re soaking for me, Angel. How can I resist?” My fingers part her folds and I find her little swollen bundle of nerves, pressing against it lightly.

A gasp falls from her lips and I bring my left hand up to cover her mouth. “Shhhhh, lover.” She gives a little whimper as I pull her onto my lap, and I quickly shimmy my sweats down. My hardness slides against the damp heat between her legs making me groan.

Our lips crash together, the kiss all tongues and teeth. She wraps her body around mine as I slide into her, sheathing myself fully. “Oh fuck…” she whispers, her forehead pressing against my chest. Her fingers glide into my hair and she yanks my head back forcefully, her eyes meeting mine.

The gaze is heated, longing and we stare at each other for a moment before her hips start to move a bit, letting me know it’s ok to begin. I grip her ass, fingers digging into her flesh as I start the push pull of her on my cock.

“Quickly, baby boy. Harder…” She has one hand still tightly wrapped in my hair, tugging. Her other raking nails down my back filling me with a shiver of sweet pleasure at the pain. Her hips rock in time with my thrusts.

I take one hand and slip it between us, finger tripping over her clit in small circles as I keep thrusting up into her. “That’s it Bucky baby… yes just like that..fuck I’m close…”

She bites into my shoulder to muffle her screams as her orgasm washes over her. “Fuck Angel you’re so Goddamn tight…!” and I’m spilling into her, her climax setting off mine. We shudder together then still, breathing heavily wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“I hope I didn’t break your skin.” She laughs darkly, licking the spot where she bit me.

I snort, “Somehow I don’t think you’ll lose sleep over it if you did.” I pull back and place a kiss on the tip of her scrunched up nose. “Now, where were we? Oh yes. Let’s find you something to wear.”

MELISSA’S POV

Yep. The death of me.

I’m dressed in a rather revealing sundress that Bucky picked out. The bodice of which is a deep blue that fades into a lovely aqua by the time it reaches the hem resting just above my knees. I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with it. I do love these strappy gladiator style sandals that wrap up and around my calves, though.

Both he and Steve have assured me I’ve never looked more beautiful and that it’s the perfect thing to wear for the “mission” we’re undertaking. If they are happy, then I am happy.

They’re currently my giant bookends as we walk the few blocks toward the tower, arms linked, chatting between ourselves. Occasionally they’ll lean over me and peck little kisses on each other’s lips and it makes my heart swell.

I look up at each of them just before we reach the tower. A little gasp comes from me as I get choked up, teeth pressing harshly into my bottom lip. “Y'all. Can we just …can we hold up for a second?”

They stop immediately looking down at me as I stare at the massive building across the street from us. My eyes move from the bottom all the way to the top spire and the gigantic A adorning it.

I’m taking slow, deep breaths. Steve moves in front of me, fingers sliding around the back of my neck, thumb brushing my cheek. “It’s ok, Melissa. I promise. We promise.” I feel Bucky’s arm around my waist, squeezing my side reassuringly.

“I trust you. Both of you.” I reach for Steve, kissing him hard. Pulling away from him I turn and do the same with Bucky. I close my eyes, once again taking several deep breaths. My hands clench and unclench. After a long moment I link my arms into each of theirs and give a sharp, quick nod of my head. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

Stepping off the curb and crossing the street we make our way into the lobby. A couple of quick turns, a couple of quick hellos to random employees and we reach a deserted corridor. A female voice comes from somewhere, greeting the boys.

“Captain Rogers. Sergeant Barnes. Glad to see you’re back.”

Steve pipes up, “F.R.I.D.A.Y., we’ve brought a guest. She’ll be visiting often. Her name is Melissa Rose. Can you please set up a profile for her?”

A profile? What the fuck…?

As Steve speaks to this… F.R.I.D.A.Y., Bucky realizes I’ve frozen in place. His fingers link through mine and he runs a hand down my arm, “It’s ok. It’s just a matter of precaution. We want you to be safe here. And that requires some security measures.” He brings my hand to his lips, placing a feather light kiss on my palm.

“Of course, Captain Rogers.” Steve guides me to a wall with scanners and such on it. “State your name, please, ma'am.”

“Melissa Anne Rose.”

“Now, please step forward and place your hand against the plate. Lean in and keep your eyes open so that I may scan those as well.”

At least her voice is comforting. I do as she asks, giving her a scan of my right palm as well as my eyes. Suddenly, red beams are scanning my whole body. After a few seconds, she speaks again.

“Thank you, Ms. Rose. I have everything I need.”

“O..okay.” I turn to the boys, “Well, now y'all know everything, huh?” my lips quirking into a small smirk as they laugh.

“Come on, Angel. Let’s head up.” Bucky takes my hand, pulling me to the elevator as Steve follows.

“Lounge floor, F.R.I.D.A.Y., if you please.”

“Of course, Captain Rogers.”

The elevator doors close and suddenly they’re both pressing against me. Steve has his face buried in the crook of my neck as he’s pushing me back against Bucky’s chest. “You look so beautiful, it’s been hard keeping my hands to myself.” He paws at me, making my knees weak. Bucky is holding me up, keeping me steady on my feet as Steve takes advantage of the small space.

I feel his thumbs scratch against the material covering my nipples and it’s then he realizes I’m not wearing a bra. He tugs lightly on the barbells, grinning against my neck. “Melissa… you’re so naughty.”

“This dress doesn’t have a need for a bra, mon petit Capitaine.” I feel Bucky’s hands on my hips, gripping them tightly as Steve growls against my neck. His hand travels down reaching the hem of the dress. He tugs then lifts it slightly, rubbing his fingers against my clothed core. I immediately start to soak through the flimsy cotton, my knees buckling, “Shit, Steve.”

I hear Bucky chuckle darkly behind me. “What’s wrong, Angel?”

“You know Goddamn well what’s wrong, Sergeant.” Steve takes advantage of Bucky distracting me to slip two fingers inside the waistband and into my dripping cunt. “Steve! Fucking hell…”

“Oh god, Maîtresse. You’re soaking.” He quickly kneels down, his strong arms parting my legs as Bucky continues to hold me up. I feel Steve’s tongue press against the fabric covering me, then he roughly pulls it aside to assault my folds with his mouth.

I cry out loudly which brings Bucky’s hand to cover my mouth. “Quiet, Angel. No need to arouse suspicion.” He drops his mouth to my neck, nibbling and licking as Steve devours my pussy. His grunts and groans sending vibrations all through my body.

I cum hard and quick, all over Steve’s talented mouth, my screams muffled by Bucky’s hand. I release Steve’s hair, which I had bunched tightly in my right hand, and he stands after fixing my underwear and my dress. Licking his lips, he grins, leaning in to kiss me. God I love tasting myself on their tongues.

He then grabs Bucky over me, kissing him hard so that they share my flavor. I feel Steve’s hand on my breast, tugging gently at the barbell there through the fabric of my dress. I giggle softly, trying to fix his hair.

Separating as the doors open to the lounge floor, we exit the elevator with huge smiles plastered on our faces. As we step into the large room, the boys grab my hands in theirs as they bracket me. Steve gives a wave to the room.

“Hey guys.”

Tagging:

@alievans007 @buckysbackpackbuckle @justareader @anice-1 @ya-girl-evanstrash @hardcollectiontrashworld @mewsiex Thanks everyone!

[tsfrbss]

Paper Moon Part 13

Bucky and Steve end up at a venue that has a 40s night and meet an OFC, Melissa Rose, a singer in a local club. They both are smitten by her, and start to vie for her affections. They end up finding out more about themselves in the process.

This honestly started out as maybe a one shot but as I got going, I decided it’ll be chapters. How many? No frigging idea. This is my absolute first time writing a fic of any sort and yes I did base the OFC on myself. I hope y'all enjoy.

Word count: 3200+ because I am a wordy bitch.

Warnings: Minimal angst. Mega smut. And as always, a lil fluff.

STEVE’S POV

Bucky and I finished cleaning up the kitchen while Melissa was still in the bedroom. We could hear her tearing apart her closet and muttering to herself obviously trying to find the perfect thing to wear to the tower.

“Maybe we should go help her, man. She’s gonna drive herself crazy.” He’s running a hand through his hair and looking at me with his brows knit in worry.

I glance down the hallway as I hear the thud of shoes obviously hitting the wall. “I mean, maybe? I don’t know. I don’t know how to do this. To navigate this.”

Laughing softly, Bucky waves a hand at me. “It’s fine, Steve. I got it.” He gestures to the living room, “Maybe you can clean the rest of this place up while I help her, alright?”

“Alright. That’s sounds like a plan.” I get to work on the living room, straightening up. I didn’t intend to do a deep clean, but as I got into it, I figured I may as well. She deserves the world, but for now a nice clean apartment will do.

While cleaning, I’m also exploring. Learning more and more about her. She clearly values comfort over appearance. An overstuffed couch, two big recliners, an old oak coffee table covered in little nooks and crannies to organize things. Warm and worn hardwood floors, small lamps placed here and there give an inviting atmosphere.>/p>

Floor to ceiling windows make up the wall her couch faces. They give a perfect view of the busy city street below. The other three walls are lined with bookshelves that are stuffed to the gills with everything from classics to non-fiction tomes on the Holy Land to current newspapers and magazines.

I run my fingers over the spines of the various books as I dust, feeling as if I can get a sense of her by touching things she obviously holds dear. These books are well loved, well used.

There are pictures in frames everywhere. Family, friends, fans I assume. Her stunning wide smile is ever present in all the ones she’s in. Even those that are clearly her as a child. I love how she’s memorialized these experiences.

Making my way around my eyes land on one that gives me pause. It looks older, like a picture from my time. A beautiful young woman with dark waves, near crystalline eyes, and a small smile that looks as if she’s holding a secret.

She looks so much like Melissa.

I make a mental note to ask her about it.

New Orleans street scenes, shots of the Gulf of Mexico, fleur-de-lis, magnolias, oak trees, pelicans, and stylized skulls in the manner of Dia de Los Muertos make up most of the art pieces that join the photographs littered about her apartment. Nearly every square inch of wall and available table space is covered by something.

I spy a couple of hand woven reed baskets overflowing with spare blankets, a large standing empty ashtray by one recliner, and a huge brass hookah with what looks to be about 4 pipes is in one corner. I’ve never seen her smoke, never tasted it on her. Maybe she has it for guests.

On a little table perched beside one of the recliners is a large, messy stack of sheet music with lyrics handwritten on the pages. I gather the papers, intending to merely put them in a more orderly pile but curiosity gets the better of me and start to thumb through them.

Looking them over, I see she has written little notes for herself near the titles. “Tennessee Whiskey in the style of Chris Stapleton. At Last in the style of Etta James. Between the Bars in the style of Madeleine Peyroux. Hallelujah in the style of k. d. lang. Brave by Jhene Aiko. WWOZ by BTE.” I’m reading them aloud, wondering what they would sound like in her voice.

I come to the next one and my eyes widen, “Fucked My Way Up To the Top by Lana del Rey.” With grin and a shake of my head, I straighten the papers and set them back on the little end table.

“Find something interesting, Steve?”

I nearly jump out of my skin at the proximity of her voice. “Holy shit, Melissa. You can’t sneak up on an old man like that.”

Her head falls backwards as she gives one of her full, loud laughs, “And here I thought you were a super soldier.” She reaches out running a fingernail down my forearm.

Turning to face her, my eyes take her in. “Melissa…you look great.” I can see nearly all of her tattoos, the ones decorating her legs, her arms, her shoulders, a tiny peek of the one down her spine. My knees weaken a bit when I realize I can also see the outline of those delicious little barbells through the material of the dress.

She looks down at her dangerously low cut sundress then back up to me, her cheeks and chest flushing pink at the compliment. She hooks a thumb over her shoulder, “Bucky’s suggestion.”

I see him grinning behind her nodding his head. “As soon as I saw it, stuffed all the way in the back of the closet I might add, I knew that’s what I’d want to see her in. Seems you like it, too.”

“I do!” I grab her in my arms, spinning her around, her feet swinging off the floor. She starts laughing loudly, “Bucky help me!”

“Hey, you’re on your own, Angel. Ya gotta take the consequences for being so beautiful.”

She groans loudly at the cheesy statement. “God, y'all are dorky.” I start to laugh as I plant her back on the floor, taking note of the black strappy sandals adorning her perfectly pedicured feet.

I lean down kissing her gently, taking her a little by surprise. “I was just looking around. I love seeing all the pictures you have.” Gesturing to the one I was most curious about I continue “Who is this beautiful dame? You look an awful lot like her.”

Melissa reaches out for the picture, holding it gingerly in her hands. “My maternal grandmother. She’s the one who gifted me with her knowledge of wartime era fashion. Her and my grandfather taught me all the songs. They also taught me all the dances. Everyone in the family always said I was her spitting image.”

Bucky gives a soft hum of approval, “Then we owe her a great debt.”

She brushes her fingers tenderly over the image. “They all said it was like she’d been made again in me. I was just like her in temperament and personality. Looks, too. Except for one thing.” Her eyes meet mine. “She had ice blue eyes and I ended up with the Irish green from my father’s side.” She shrugs a little.

“And a stunning green they are. My favorite color.” I slide my hands down her arms then take her hands in mine. “Are you ready, doll? I know this is still very overwhelming for you. But we’ll be there. Right beside you. Each step of the way.”

“They’re gonna love you.” Bucky’s low voice comes out muffled as he’s taken up the position standing behind her, his lips attached to one of her exposed shoulders.

She wraps an arm around my waist resting her head on my chest, then pulls Bucky closer behind her. “If you two think you’re ready, then I’m ready. I won’t say I’m not scared. I am. But some things in life take risk. And I believe you two to be worth that risk.” Her eyes find mine as she speaks the last sentence, and I can see the worry. I can also see how sincere and how heartfelt her words are.

“Merci, Maîtresse.”

“Thank you, Angel.”

BUCKY’S POV

While I make Steve clean her apartment, I quietly slide into her bedroom. What I see makes me stop in my tracks. She has torn apart her closet, her dressers. Shoes and clothes are strewn everywhere.

She’s sitting on the floor, back against the bed looking on the verge of tears. “Angel? Melissa? Are you alright?”

Shaking her head she gestures toward the room, “I have nothing to wear. I can't… I can’t go to the tower. I can’t meet the team. They’re your family, Bucky. I need to make a good impression.” Her voice is small, soft, tinged with fear.

I sit on the floor beside her and gather her in my arms, “Hey, hey. It’s ok.” My fingers slide up the sides of neck and I cup her cheeks turning her face to mine. “Listen to me. You’re beautiful. No matter what you wear, you are beautiful. I want you to be comfortable. That’s my main concern.”

“It’s going to be enough of a shock to them about you and Steve. When they meet me and realize the part I play in this, they’re going to hate me.” She’s trembling as she says these words. “And so are your adoring fans. I just …I don’t fit the bill. Not to mention when we go public with our relationship. People won’t be able to handle it.”

I tighten my grip on her. “Melissa, we are all adults here. This is our choice. So what if people don’t like it? They don’t live our lives.” My thumbs brush her cheeks. “And Steve and I want you. More than that, we need you. Neither he nor I have felt as good in our lives as we have since you came along. It fits. You fit. You belong with us.”

She seems as if she has some reply, some counter, but she closes her mouth and just looks at me. Really looks at me. After a moment, she places her hand on my chest and shakes her head. “Oh, Bucky.”

Seeing her like this, I’m overcome. She is perfection and she just doesn’t believe it. I give a shake of my head and suddenly I’m pressing my lips to hers. Her eyes widen a second then she’s kissing me back, sighing softly into my mouth. Her small hands grab for me, tugging at my shirt.

My fingers slip into her robe, pushing it off her shoulders to let it pool around her hips. I’m groaning against her skin as I move from her lips to her jaw making my way to her chin. “How can you not see that? How can I make you understand?”

She’s melting under my touch, her fingers slipping into my hair pulling me close. My lips move against the hollow of her neck, “Everything about you makes me crave more and more.” My tongue darts out licking along her collarbone, teeth nipping at the muscle connecting her neck and shoulder.

I have never heard such delicious sounds from anyone in my life.

“Bucky…” she’s whining. “I have to get dressed, baby boy.” I slip my hand lower, the backs of my knuckles just barely brushing against the wetness between her legs.

I growl against her neck, “But you’re soaking for me, Angel. How can I resist?” My fingers part her folds and I find her little swollen bundle of nerves, pressing against it lightly.

A gasp falls from her lips and I bring my left hand up to cover her mouth. “Shhhhh, lover.” She gives a little whimper as I pull her onto my lap, and I quickly shimmy my sweats down. My hardness slides against the damp heat between her legs making me groan.

Our lips crash together, the kiss all tongues and teeth. She wraps her body around mine as I slide into her, sheathing myself fully. “Oh fuck…” she whispers, her forehead pressing against my chest. Her fingers glide into my hair and she yanks my head back forcefully, her eyes meeting mine.

The gaze is heated, longing and we stare at each other for a moment before her hips start to move a bit, letting me know it’s ok to begin. I grip her ass, fingers digging into her flesh as I start the push pull of her on my cock.

“Quickly, baby boy. Harder…” She has one hand still tightly wrapped in my hair, tugging. Her other raking nails down my back filling me with a shiver of sweet pleasure at the pain. Her hips rock in time with my thrusts.

I take one hand and slip it between us, finger tripping over her clit in small circles as I keep thrusting up into her. “That’s it Bucky baby… yes just like that..fuck I’m close…”

She bites into my shoulder to muffle her screams as her orgasm washes over her. “Fuck Angel you’re so Goddamn tight…!” and I’m spilling into her, her climax setting off mine. We shudder together then still, breathing heavily wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“I hope I didn’t break your skin.” She laughs darkly, licking the spot where she bit me.

I snort, “Somehow I don’t think you’ll lose sleep over it if you did.” I pull back and place a kiss on the tip of her scrunched up nose. “Now, where were we? Oh yes. Let’s find you something to wear.”

MELISSA’S POV

Yep. The death of me.

I’m dressed in a rather revealing sundress that Bucky picked out. The bodice of which is a deep blue that fades into a lovely aqua by the time it reaches the hem resting just above my knees. I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with it. I do love these strappy gladiator style sandals that wrap up and around my calves, though.

Both he and Steve have assured me I’ve never looked more beautiful and that it’s the perfect thing to wear for the “mission” we’re undertaking. If they are happy, then I am happy.

They’re currently my giant bookends as we walk the few blocks toward the tower, arms linked, chatting between ourselves. Occasionally they’ll lean over me and peck little kisses on each other’s lips and it makes my heart swell.

I look up at each of them just before we reach the tower. A little gasp comes from me as I get choked up, teeth pressing harshly into my bottom lip. “Y'all. Can we just …can we hold up for a second?”

They stop immediately looking down at me as I stare at the massive building across the street from us. My eyes move from the bottom all the way to the top spire and the gigantic A adoring it.

I’m taking slow, deep breaths. Steve moves in front of me, fingers sliding around the back of my neck, thumb brushing my cheek. “It’s ok, Melissa. I promise. We promise.” I feel Bucky’s arm around my waist, squeezing my side reassuringly.

“I trust you. Both of you.” I reach for Steve, kissing him hard. Pulling away from him I turn and do the same with Bucky. I close my eyes, once again taking several deep breaths. My hands clench and unclench. After a long moment I link my arms into each of theirs and give a sharp, quick nod of my head. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

Stepping off the curb and crossing the street we make our way into the lobby. A couple of quick turns, a couple of quick hellos to random employees and we reach a deserted corridor. A female voice comes from somewhere, greeting the boys.

“Captain Rogers. Sergeant Barnes. Glad to see you’re back.”

Steve pipes up, “F.R.I.D.A.Y., we’ve brought a guest. She’ll be visiting often. Her name is Melissa Rose. Can you please set up a profile for her?”

A profile? What the fuck…?

As Steve speaks to this… F.R.I.D.A.Y., Bucky realizes I’ve frozen in place. His fingers link through mine and he runs a hand down my arm, “It’s ok. It’s just a matter of precaution. We want you to be safe here. And that requires some security measures.” He brings my hand to his lips, placing a feather light kiss on my palm.

“Of course, Captain Rogers.” Steve guides me to a wall with scanners and such on it. “State your name, please, ma'am.”

“Melissa Anne Rose.”

“Now, please step forward and place your hand against the plate. Lean in and keep your eyes open so that I may scan those as well.”

At least her voice is comforting. I do as she asks, giving her a scan of my right palm as well as my eyes. Suddenly, red beams are scanning my whole body. After a few seconds, she speaks again.

“Thank you, Ms. Rose. I have everything I need.”

“O..okay.” I turn to the boys, “Well, now y'all know everything, huh?” my lips quirking into a small smirk as they laugh.

“Come on, Angel. Let’s head up.” Bucky takes my hand, pulling me to the elevator as Steve follows.

“Lounge floor, F.R.I.D.A.Y., if you please.”

“Of course, Captain Rogers.”

The elevator doors close and suddenly they’re both pressing against me. Steve has his face buried in the crook of my neck as he’s pushing me back against Bucky’s chest. “You look so beautiful, it’s been hard keeping my hands to myself.” He paws at me, making my knees weak. Bucky is holding me up, keeping me steady on my feet as Steve takes advantage of the small space.

I feel his thumbs scratch against the material covering my nipples and it’s then he realizes I’m not wearing a bra. He tugs lightly on the barbells, grinning against my neck. “Melissa… you’re so naughty.”

“This dress doesn’t have a need for a bra, mon petit Capitaine.” I feel Bucky’s hands on my hips, gripping them tightly as Steve growls against my neck. His hand travels down reaching the hem of the dress. He tugs then lifts it slightly, rubbing his fingers against my clothed core. I immediately start to soak through the flimsy cotton, my knees buckling, “Shit, Steve.”

I hear Bucky chuckle darkly behind me. “What’s wrong, Angel?”

“You know Goddamn well what’s wrong, Sergeant.” Steve takes advantage of Bucky distracting me to slip two fingers inside the waistband and into my dripping cunt. “Steve! Fucking hell…”

“Oh god, Maîtresse. You’re soaking.” He quickly kneels down, his strong arms parting my legs as Bucky continues to hold me up. I feel Steve’s tongue press against the fabric covering me, then he roughly pulls it aside to assault my folds with his mouth.

I cry out loudly which brings Bucky’s hand to cover my mouth. “Quiet, Angel. No need to arouse suspicion.” He drops his mouth to my neck, nibbling and licking as Steve devours my pussy. His grunts and groans sending vibrations all through my body.

I cum hard and quick, all over Steve’s talented mouth, my screams muffled by Bucky’s hand. I release Steve’s hair, which I had bunched tightly in my right hand, and he stands after fixing my underwear and my dress. Licking his lips, he grins, leaning in to kiss me. God I love tasting myself on their tongues.

He then grabs Bucky over me, kissing him hard so that they share my flavor. I feel Steve’s hand on my breast, tugging gently at the barbell there through the fabric of my dress. I giggle softly, trying to fix his hair.

Separating as the doors open to the lounge floor, we exit the elevator with huge smiles plastered on our faces. As we step into the large room, the boys grab my hands in theirs as they bracket me. Steve gives a wave to the room.

“Hey guys.”