#I shouldn't have even written that first half - it didn't follow any of the requests

[livelaughwhump]

Hii!

Could you write something about Whumpee having a nightmare and shaking, mumbling and kicking in their sleep. But. Caretaker is an empath and they send out waves of calm emotions, feelings of love, care and peace, until Whumpee has fallen into a deep peaceful sleep a faint smile on their face.

Thank youu

Hi!! Thanks for the request!! Sorry this took so long. I haven't written a general whump fic in a while, so please bear with me!

I hope you enjoy!

Content: nightmare, insomnia mention, brief mention of past captivity, implied past torture, mostly comfort

-

Whumpee hadn't slept in weeks. Caretaker had tried everything, from calming tea to white noise, but nothing had worked. They'd even suggested a sleep clinic, but Whumpee had nearly had a panic attack at the very mention. At this point, they didn't know what else to do. Whumpee was clearly exhausted, so Caretaker tried the last thing they could think of.

Whumpee sniffled as Caretaker climbed into their bed with them, wiping away their tears and offering Caretaker more space than was necessary.

"I-I'm so sorry, Caretaker," they mumbled as Caretaker settled beside them in bed. "You shouldn't have to do this for me. I know you don't like sleeping around other people-"

Caretaker gently shushed them and brushed away their tears. "Don't be sorry, dove. I'll sleep better knowing that you're not alone. I offered to do this for you, remember?"

Whumpee sniffled again and nodded. "But I don't want you to sacrifice your comfort for my sake. You already do so much for me."

Caretaker smiled and brushed Whumpee's hair out of their face. "Now's not the time for guilt, dove. All you need to worry about is sleep."

Whumpee's eyes wandered. "But...what if I can't?"

"Then, I'll be right beside you. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

Whumpee's lower lip was wobbling. "But, what if-"

Caretaker shushed them again, wrapping their arms around their frightened companion. "There's nothing to be worried about, dove. Just relax and close your eyes. I'll watch over you."

. . .

Caretaker was beyond relieved when they heard the evening out of Whumpee's breath. They couldn't remember the last time Whumpee had slept through the night, and they prayed to whatever god was listening that Whumpee would make it even half that.

It had only taken a little over an hour, which wasn't as long as Caretaker had expected. They were so proud of Whumpee. They had been put through hell by a despicable human being. It was no wonder they couldn't sleep. They were probably terrified of being plucked from their bed and taken right back to that awful place without so much as a cry for help.

Caretaker snuggled closer to Whumpee, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of their head. With their incredible relief came overwhelming exhaustion, and Caretaker's eyelids fluttered. Their body sagged against Whumpee's, and with a soft breath that ruffled Whumpee's tangled hair, Caretaker closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep.

. . .

Caretaker awoke a few hours later to the sound of soft whimpering. At first, they assumed it was their dog begging for attention, until they heard spoken words.

"N-No, Wh-Whumper, p-please."

Caretaker's eyes snapped open. They quickly pushed themself into a sitting position and flicked on the lamp to their right. Their eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of the person Whumpee was begging to. As their eyes adjusted to the sudden light, they recognized the emptiness of Whumpee's room.

"Please, no. I-I don't want it, please..."

Caretaker shifted their gaze down to Whumpee's small, quivering form. Their light curls stuck to their sweat-slick forehead and tears were oozing out of the corners of their tightly-clamped eyes. A quiet yelp escaped their throat, followed by more soft begging.

Caretaker absolutely deflated. They knew all about how awful Whumpee's nightmares could be. Whumpee told them about each one in detail, and they were all worse than the one before.

Caretaker hated seeing them like this. It broke their heart to see the brilliant, joyful, funny person they once knew reduced to something so pitiful and broken.

Caretaker forced a sad smile to their face. They'd always been told that they had a gift for making people feel safe, without even saying a word. They just hoped they'd be able to reach Whumpee through the horrors they were surely reliving.

Caretaker gently ran their hand through Whumpee's hair, softly caressing their tear-stained cheeks. They wanted Whumpee to know that they were safe, that Caretaker was never going to let anything bad happen to them again. They wanted Whumpee to feel loved and accepted and heard, despite the pain and the loss they'd experienced.

Sure enough, Whumpee's trembling seemed to slow, their whimpers quieted, and the wrinkles on their face smoothed out. Their tense body relaxed and they shivered beneath Caretaker's cool touch. Even once they'd calmed down a bit, Caretaker didn't stop caressing Whumpee and wiping away their tears and sweat.

As much as they knew Whumpee would feel guilty for it, Caretaker was beyond grateful that Whumpee had woken them up. They much preferred that to Whumpee waking themself up. If they were given the option, Caretaker would never sleep again if it meant Whumpee never had another nightmare. They didn't deserve to live in such fear and turmoil, and Caretaker vowed that they would do whatever it took to take that pain away from them.

Even if it meant hunting Whumper down themself.

-

I hope this was okay!! I'm not used to writing regular whump fics, so I'm not sure how I feel about this. It's a little shorter than I intended, but I hope you enjoyed it!

If anyone else has any requests, suggestions, or questions for me or my characters, please feel free to send them to me!

[suicidalslasher]

𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗴𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲.

A/N: This is basically the same concept as 'Final Girl' but not quite.... It's practically the same concept but..... yeah, you'll see, lol. This is the first part of two bits. Enjoy it, regardless. Leave requests if you got any as well ;)

(The next one will be smuttier, promise. I just wanted to give yall something new to read since Halloween is sadly ending and I haven't posted anything yet!)

Warnings // tags: Female reader, she/her pronouns are used.

This story contains NSFW elements such as forced sexual favors, kidnapping, Dub-Con/Borderline Non-Con, dirty talk, etc, etc. If I left anything out, I'll go through it and make sure it's tagged! xxx

ps: This is my first story written in second person. I wanted to try something new and see which POV I prefer out of the bunch. If you prefer second rather than first or third, let me know!

One moment, you're enjoying a drink with your friends at the local bar, downing yourself in different flavored drinks ('Oh, you're such a girly girl with your fruity drinks... You should try something stronger, more manlier!' taunted your friend, Annabelle.

Your other friend rolled her eyes before giving you a gentle smile, a comforting touch on the shoulder. 'Don't listen to her,' she had said. 'Enjoy yourself and your drinks, even if they are really girly.'

They both giggled before grabbing their nearly half empty glasses of alcohol and clinked all three cups together, yelling, 'To us and to a brand new, hopefully safer, new year!') and the next, you're having a bag thrown over your head and you are being pushed into the back of a car.

You see nothing but you hear low hushed chuckles and inaudible murmurs all around you.

Quite frankly, you could have known what they were saying if your friend, Regan, hadn't made you feel like a fool for your drink choices and therefore, you two had a drinking competition in seeing who could handle the most shots.

(It was you, crowned as the winner.)

(Regan only had a few before her stomach couldn't handle it and she had to rush to the bathroom, most likely puking her guts up in the toilet.)

So, there you were, drunk out of your mind, scared out of your wits, being held captive in a van of strangers.

Regan, Annabelle and the rest of the girls said it'd be a night to remember but you didn't think they meant for it to be like this.

*~*~*~*~*~* *~*~*~*~*~* *~*~*~*~*~* *~*~*~*~*~*

"What should we do first?" asked a deep voice, one that sounded strangely familiar but you couldn't put your finger on who it belonged to.

Faint giggling was next to follow and you furrowed your eyebrows together, trying to piece the puzzle together, trying to figure out who all was in the room with you.

Even the quiet laughter sounded recognizable.

"I'm not sure," answered another male.

"She's so cute, though, isn't she, boys?" You couldn't see any of them but you expected they were nodding in agreement. Or, perhaps, they were shaking their heads, disagreeing.

Who knows?

It was as if one of the unknown males had read your thoughts because you heard someone snickering and then, just like that, you're feeling a light brush of fingertips running up and down your dress before the hand grips your thigh, nails digging into your skin.

"Oh, darling, you're so beautiful and you don't even know it." He purred, causing shivers to erupt all throughout your entire body.

The touch alone made it feel as if your skin had exploded into flames, your body growing with heat as he continued to run his thumb across your skin in circular motions.

It was awful, because you knew better. You shouldn't like it. Another part of you, however, did and that thought itself was so sick, so twisted and haunting, you felt disgusted with yourself for even getting wet at the feeling of a stranger's touch amongst your skin.

Yet, it had been so long... so fucking long since someone had given you the slightest bit of affection, showered you with praise and complimented you until warmth spread across your cheeks and all you could do was bite back a smile.

"You’re so pretty, even like this, tied up, scared, a mess….” another voice came, this time from your left rather than the right. "Please,"

"Oh! She speaks! Thought a cat had her tongue for the longest time,"

"Thought she was a mute," another snickered.

"Shut up. Both of you."

"What should we do first?" the one from earlier repeated.

“Me, personally? I want to break her.... Oh, I want to break her so bad, ruin what little left of her innocence she has left... and oh, how I’m going to break her…”

"Guess you can go first since your cock looks as if it's about to break through your zippers, anyhow. Go ahead, we'll sit back and watch the show."

"God, thank you." Your breath hitches when you feel your legs being spread apart and you feel calloused fingers running themselves up your legs until they curl around the hem of your underwear, tugging them down to your ankles.

Before you can even get a word out, scream out, 'no' and or, 'stop' it's too late as the warmth of the man's mouth is already pressed up against your cunt and you squeal with surprise.

"Fucking hell.... she's so adorable," one male cooed. You try and squirm, try and wiggle out of the man's firm grip but you can't. Can't move at all.

Realization hits and you remember they had said you were cute tied up.... you were tied up.

You ARE tied up.

Fuck.

And here you are, with a man you don't even know / maybe know and his tongue is being buried between your thighs, his tongue running up and down your cunt.

"Please... Please, stop." Your voice is barely above a whisper. Your words betray you, as well, given the fact it came out so breathless, so whiny.

It didn't sound as if you wanted whoever it was to stop. They made sure they knew that, too.

Laughter floods your ears and echoes against the empty walls of wherever you are.

"You're telling me you don’t like it, but your body is telling me something entirely different, baby." The man beneath you says.

"We can see how wet that pretty pussy is and we're a few feet away from you!" Laughter again spikes in the room and you feel shame hitting you in the face.

You lower your head in embarrassment but you soon throw your head back, stunned, as fingers slip between your folds.

"Oh.... oh my God," You whimper, eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head.

"That's it, that's a good girl." The man says and you can practically hear the smile in his voice before he's placing his face back between your legs, his tongue ever so softly brushing itself against your nub, licking at it until it hardens in his mouth.

You weren't a virgin, you've slept with a handful of people. Even had your own girl on girl experiences, too.

(Believe it or not, those were shared with Tatum Riley and Sidney Prescott back in high school.)

Alas, even then so, nothing – nobody – had gotten you this aroused before. You were wet, leaking all your juices inside this unknown man's mouth.

You didn't know what was coming next and again, that thought should terrify you yet it made your pussy throb, the arousement you were growing largened, the juices flooding past your thighs and into the man's mouth. You were completely soaked, completely dripping with wetness.

"You're so fucking wet," the man beneath you moaned as he thrusted his fingers back and forth in your cunt.

Quiet moans slip out of your mouth as you groaned, nodding your head eagerly.

"All for you and whoever else in this room."

"Oh? You OUR slut then, hm?"

"Say it," another male demanded. You go to open your mouth but the bag on your head is ripped off and instead of being met with the men, you're met with the ceiling due to a rough grip given by one of the stranger's.

He has your hair in the palm of his hand and forces you to look up above. "Say it." He growled.

"Say you're our slut and we can do whatever we want, whatever we wish to do with those holes of yours." He spat.

"I-I'm your slut. All my holes are yours to fuck, to explore, to abuse. I'm your toy, your slut, your whore, I'm all yours, please.... I-I need it. Need to be fucked like I'm nothing. Use me for your own filthy, sexual fantasies."

"Well? Is that good enough? Think she's ready to see who we are?"

"I don't know...." The grip on your hair gets tighter and you squeal, clenching your eyes together tightly, unsure if it's out of pain or pleasure.

"Are you ready to come face to face with us, you pathetic bitch?"

"Y-Yes. I'm ready to see who all I belong to." Your voice is weak but you try your hardest not to stammer, to somewhat still look as if you're in control of yourself.

Soon enough, you guessed, that'd go away soon.

Because from that moment on, your body didn't belong to you and you were no longer going to be in control of yourself.

No, instead, four men now owned you.

And YOU were now THEIR'S.

The hand falls back, as does your head. You blink a few times, adjusting to the bright light that surrounds you.

Blinking once, twice, a third time, you're able to get your sight sorted and you glance up, coming face to face with nobody other than Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Mickey Altieri, and Roman Bridger.

Everyone knew who these men were. Whether you lived in Woodsboro or outside of Woodsboro, everybody knew who these men were and what all they had in common.

They were serial killers.

The famous Ghostface ones, to be exact.

And now?

Now you're their new play toy.

"Surprise," They all said in unison, all wearing the same sinister grins on their faces as they spoke.

Usually, you were good at seeing twists in movies or books but this...

This was an unexpected twist you didn't see coming.

[lost-between-letters]

Hello Hello

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader (she/her)

Requested by: anon

Written for: my 200 follower celebration (open)

Word Count: 604

Summary: Dean liked to suprise Y/N. Especially if he found a fun weakness in the process

A/N: you have no idea how much fun I had with this one! Gotta love a smiley Dean. The prompt is in bold

Y/N was humming quietly to herself when she cracked the egg into the pan. The oil was sizzling loudly as the cold yolk met the hot material and she took an involuntary step backwards.

While she was swaying her hips to the rhythm in her head, Y/N kept her eyes focused on her food. The last time she had made the mistake of checking for clean plates with something on the stove, they had been scratching pancake batter from the walls for months. Y/N stood by the point that it was absolutely Sam's fault though. Fucker shouldn't have tried to steal it right out of the pan.

That was also the reason why Y/N didn't hear the footsteps until it was too late.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her into a muscular chest. Y/N squeaked in surprise and let go of the spatula and in consequence of her only weapon.

She needn't have worried about weapons though, she realized a moment later as Y/N felt a very familiar laugh rumble through the body behind her.

"Dean Michael Winchester!" She scolded, a little out of breath from the shock, "how dare you!"

"I'm sorry," he said, decidedly not sorry if the ongoing chuckles were anything to go by, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Dean buried his face in her neck when he said that and peppered soft kisses all over the sensitive skin there. Despite herself, Y/N started to laugh with him, as the gentle brush tickled incredibly.

"My my, what have we here." The pure glee about his discovery would have melted Y/N into a mere puddle on the ground if Dean hadn't started his attack immediately.

Before she could have reacted in any possible way, Dean was blowing raspberries into the crook of her neck - though his laughter made it harder and at the same time tickle even more. Y/N started squirming as the laughter was wrecking through her body but Dean simply flexed his arms and trapped her.

"Nooooo," she complained in between giggles and tried to get away half heartedly.

Instead of being nice, Dean went face first into the fight, a huge smile - that she currently couldn't see - on his lips and rubbed his five o'clock scruff right into the spot under her chin. Y/N all but heatbutted him in the fit of laughter that this action punched out of her.

Just when the smell of burned egg cut through the air, Y/N called for truce. Her belly was in severe post-tickle-attack pain, her cheeks flushed. "I surrender! My eggs are burning."

The last statement was enough to send Dean reeling again but he let go of her.

While Y/N was saving what was supposed to be a snack, Dean was busy trying to stay serious and catching his breath.

"You're a special one, huh?" She said eventually and leaned against the counter behind her to watch her boyfriend calm down.

Dean nodded solemnly. "The most special one, indeed."

"Too precious for this world," Y/N agreed, only half joking. Of course, Dean only rolled his eyes.

"Can I get a proper hello kiss now?" He asked, smiling innocently.

Y/N snorted. "Only if you promise to behave."

But she was moving already.

Dean caught her around the waist this time and luckily both his hands and face stayed away from dangerous tickle-territory. He raised his eyebrows at her as if he knew what she had just thought. "I'm always behaving."

Now, it was Y/N's turn to roll her eyes. "Sure you are. Now shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, madam."

And boy, did Dean kiss her.

General Taglist: @immrbrightsideeee , @fandomfoodiedancer , @lovesfandoms , @nyotamalfoy , @stixnstripesworld , @foxyjwls007 , @amythedoctor

Dean Taglist: @tiggytaylor , @akshi8278 , @mrsjenniferwinchester

If you want to be tagged as well, click here or drop an ask/DM

[dysfunctional-college-roommates]

Okay, so this is my very last-minute gift for @nakasomethingkun through @aftgexchange. So, I meant there to be stuff related to the 4th of July and to Andreil reuniting during their long-distance relationship, and this... sort of has that stuff. Anyways, it might not be exactly what I meant it to be, but I kind of like it, so hopefully you will, too?

[Now on AO3 with some minor edits]

Neil Josten didn’t pay much attention to birthdays. He willfully ignored his own, did little more than slide a phone to Andrew on his, and in that tradition, America’s birthday was hardly a blip on Neil’s radar.

Other people turned the Fourth of July into an entire spectacle party. Other people woke up early, spent hours in the car, and made their way to a beach or a backyard. They made small talk with people they would have avoided otherwise; they drank more than they would have otherwise; they ate food they wouldn’t have otherwise. Other people turned a regular day into something else, like it was so unique that this country had come to be.

Maybe it was Neil’s life growing up that had made him feel this way. When he was nine, all he’d wanted was to see the fireworks. But the FBI had been watching, looking for evidence of his father’s criminal activity. Neil hadn’t understood that at the time, but he’d pieced it together since. He’d been told that he couldn’t go outside to watch from the lawn; he couldn’t even peek out the window. He’d sat on the living room floor and simply listened to the sound of them while his mother read a book. And then he’d gone to bed.

Since then, Neil had spent more than a few Fourths in other countries. Sometimes they were in a city with a large enough population of foreigners that their accents weren’t memorable, and sometimes there had been sparse parties tripping through the streets. When he was fourteen, Neil had heard the commotion of them outside his window, but he hadn’t understood what it was for. He hadn’t realized the significance until the next day, as his mother hurried him past someone’s abandoned American flag T-shirt in the street.

The past few years had been a little better for Fourth of July experiences. There had been waterskiing with Allison (well, watching Allison waterski while the rest of them had struggled to understand the physics of standing on water). There had been grilling with Wymack and Abby (they’d left Kevin with the grill for one minute, and all the burgers had wound up burnt). There had been, best of all, sitting in the house in Colombia with Andrew, lights off, trading truths as the fireworks exploded somewhere else.

But this year, Neil hadn’t given much thought to it. Nicky had said something back in May about petitioning his office for a party (and how it was totally going to work this year), but no one else had brought up any plans for the holiday. Neil, for his part, had expected practice. This was one of the nice things about professional Exy: there were no class schedules to get in the way. Neil’s coach, he knew, was more organized than most with regard to the practice schedule, but Neil kind of liked the predictability. Routine was a luxury that he could suddenly afford.

This was what Neil could expect from his routine: Monday and Wednesday, he was in the weight room in the morning, running light drills in the afternoon; Tuesday, he was running drills all day; Thursday, he played at least one scrimmage; Friday, there were drills in the morning, and maybe another scrimmage. Every third Friday, they had off, though, and Saturday was a free practice day – you were free to do what you wanted as long as it was practice. Sunday was their day off. These were facts that Neil could use to plan visits to Andrew. They were facts that he could use to predict what tomorrow would look like, and that was a comfort to someone who hadn’t always known where or if he would be by the end of the day.

Here was something that liked to muck with predictability: holidays. Holidays shifted trash day so that Neil’s trash was sitting at the curb for an extra day. Holidays closed businesses that he’d needed to get to. Holidays shoved aside the normal setup of stores for weeks beforehand, making it impossible to find the stupid bag of Oreos that had been right there last week.

None of these inconveniences had reminded Neil of the Fourth quite yet – and the explosion of red-white-blue at the front of the grocery story was hardly noticeable against the backdrop of his team’s aggressive marketing scheme. Here was what reminded Neil that the Fourth of July was approaching: on Thursday, Coach Garces sat them down after their last scrimmage and said, “All right, here’s the holiday schedule for next week.”

Neil looked around at his teammates in confusion. He wasn’t quite at home here yet, wasn’t quite sure of himself when it came to speaking up in this group. He’d been so completely comfortable with the Foxes that it was weird, being uncertain now.

In any case, no one else on the team looked confused – or looked, in general; they were all just paying full attention to the coach. She continued, “Now, some of you – you know who you are – have let me down before and will be doing special practices with me all weekend. But the majority of you are getting the benefit of the doubt. You will keep up your training over the next week – I want you running drills on a court at least twice, and keep up your weight-room routines. A single one of you comes in unprepared or hungover next Thursday, and you’re all stuck with me for Labor Day.”

There was silence as the team processed this. Finally, one of the guys recruited around the same time as Neil – something Freeman – spoke up. “Are you serious, coach?”

“We only got a couple days last year,” added Samantha Li, who’d been with the team for a few years now.

“Maybe I’m being generous,” Coach Garces replied, standing up with her clipboard as a general indication that she was done with their questions. As she headed for the exit, she added over her shoulder, “Or maybe I’m showing my gratitude that there was no rotten egg prank this Easter, Bell.” She tapped the doorframe with her clipboard. “Availability schedules for the court and weight room will be up in thirty minutes.”

As several of the players started swearing to Bell that they’d told him she was onto him, Neil just sat there. Just a few years ago, Neil never would have dreamed of choosing anything over the opportunity for extra Exy practice. He would have been in Garces’ office right now, asking if he could join the group who were being punished. And yet –

“Josten!” Samantha Li called from across the meeting room. She was one of the better strikers on the team, so they were friendly. “Hey, you plan on sitting there all night?” she teased. “Or do you want to come out for celebratory drinks? I’m buying!”

A cheer went up from several of their teammates, and Samantha looked around at them disdainfully. “Sorry,” she said, “not for y’all.” Samantha could be kind of ruthless; Andrew, when Neil had first described her, had suggested without concern that if she ever met Allison, they would destroy either each other, or the world. Neil, personally, didn’t think that Samantha could quite measure up to Allison’s level of confidence and unflappable independence, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say so to her.

“Not planning on sitting here all night,” Neil replied, standing to prove his point, “but not going out either. Sorry.” He knew he didn’t sound apologetic, but he wasn’t sorry for that, either.

Samantha crossed her arms, but she didn’t look angry. “Plans?” she inquired. Neil shrugged. He thought about how, just a few years ago, his plans would have been to hole up on the empty court and get in as much extra practice as he could. He thought about players he’d faced off against in college, the ones who’d already been tapped to join the US Court. He thought about Kevin and Ichirou, each awaiting greatness from him, but for different reasons. He thought about Andrew.

Andrew, who expected from Neil only what Neil expected from himself, and only because Neil expected it from himself. Andrew, who was possibly the best goalkeeper that Exy had ever seen, but had already told him, in not so many words, that he refused to be on two Exy teams without Neil. Andrew, who claimed to hate Exy, but put in extra hours when Neil was there. Andrew, who he could be with in just a few hours by plane.

“I might,” Neil said. “Not for sure, but – yeah. I’m pretty sure I have plans.” He grabbed his gear bag off the floor and offered the room at large what Andrew had once called his ‘I’ve hidden the explosives somewhere in this building’ smile. “See you all next week.”

Andrew had mixed feelings about airports these days. He still wasn’t a huge fan of flying, and he was even less a fan of crowds. The crowds were even more of a nuisance these days, with the periodic appearances of Andrew’s face on billboards and commercials (the PR team had only made the mistake of not giving him a heads-up once). There always seemed to be people taking his picture, people staring, people asking for autographs, no matter how many times he pulled knives on anyone who got too close. No matter how many times he categorically refused to give an autograph to anyone taller than he was (he’d picked that one up from Neil).

There was one good thing about the airport, however, and that was that it connected him to Neil. Well, occasionally, Andrew was just the slightest bit appreciative that it brought Aaron or Nicky to visit, too, but that hardly made a dent in the downsides of the airport. The true redemption of the place came from reunions with Neil in baggage claim.

But Andrew was running a little late today.

It was Neil’s fault, of course – he’d called during practice, of all things, and announced that he was about to leave for the airport. He’d given Andrew the arrival time, but with no advance notice, he hadn’t been able to leave early. He’d turned his usual shower into a thirty-second rinse, dumped his gear in a heap in the back of the car, and spent most of the drive breaking the speed limit, but still, he’d arrived after the plane. In fact, by the time he pushed through the doors, the conveyor belt was already starting to spit out luggage from Neil’s flight.

And yet, where was Neil? Andrew watched Neil’s obnoxious orange duffel bag make a lap around the carousel and tried not to think about the last time he’d seen Neil’s bag without Neil. There were a million scenarios that he was carefully not thinking about. He’d scanned every person in the crowd at least five times now – a full plane mulling around, grabbing their bags and greeting their loved ones. Except for Neil.

Neil, Neil, where was Neil? Andrew hated him for doing this to him. Minutes ago, every cell in his body had been zinging with the anticipation of seeing Neil again, and now every cell was screaming with possibility that he might not. He couldn’t stand the fact that he was always so far from Neil, that he was always so out of the loop on what was going on with Neil. He hated that it was possible for him to pass hours with Neil hurt and him not knowing a thing about it.

Andrew was getting ready to sound the alarm, to muscle his way through airport security and damn the consequences. He was ready to search every plane in the airport. And then Neil walked out through the gate exit, chatting with a couple of flight attendants. Neil could start a conversation with anyone, as long as it was about Exy. Andrew was going to kill him.

Neil’s eyes were already darting around the room, even as his hands made gestures and his mouth kept moving. He found Andrew in a matter of seconds, his sentence turning into a smile that did stupid things to Andrew’s pulse. It really was uncanny how easily Neil could find him, and even more so how he could give Andrew these feelings like reminders of being alive.

And Neil was still grinning at him, but he was still talking to the flight attendants, like he had all the time in the world. It was almost unbearable – it would be, if Andrew didn’t like looking at that anticipatory expression so much. Neil’s gestures were faster now, and Andrew knew – he knew – that Neil was talking about him. He’d seen it too many times now, and yet, every time was like the world was ending. Andrew hadn’t seen too many people talk that way about him – like they wanted to be talking about him – before Neil.

Finally, Neil shed his flight attendant posse and sprinted over to Andrew. He still had that anticipation grin when he stopped less than an arm’s length from Andrew. He held out his hand near Andrew’s clavicle, waiting. Andrew responded by reaching up to put his own hand on Neil’s shoulder, a consent through similar action. Neil let his hand gently fall, his index finger curling around the side of Andrew’s neck while the others curved over the top of his shoulder. Andrew let himself rest his jaw against Neil’s thumb as his own thumb stroked along Neil’s jaw.

“I think your bag has gone around three times by now,” Andrew commented, and even after all these years, that quiet tone in his own voice was unfamiliar to him.

Neil was smiling that sort of smile that Andrew didn’t want to name, that it would hurt too much to name. “You could have grabbed it for me,” he commented.

“That is a service I only provide in the event of a kidnapping,” Andrew replied, keeping inflection out of his voice to hide that the association, the possibility had infested his mind so recently.

Neil squeezed his shoulder, as if to say, I’m here, I’m okay. “I should get my bag before they think I’ve abandoned it,” he said. Most of other passengers had already left the area, and only the few who’d taken a detour after deplaning were still looking for their bags.

“It’s been a while since a federal agency had a word with you,” Andrew remarked, a sort of agreement.

Neither of them moved. For minutes, they just stood there, watching each other faces, even though there were no surprises there. Then Neil said, “I don’t want to kiss you in an airport.”

Andrew did not laugh, but he was amused. He did have to admit that it was a very cliché idea, the kiss at baggage claim. He chose not to mention that they’d done it anyways, the first few reunions. Instead, he took his hand from Neil’s shoulder and grabbed his fingers with it instead. He told him, “I think you should get your bag, then.”

[alirhi]

This is oddly fun lol

Let's see how many of these I can churn out before I get distracted or need a break! (pff. like I need an excuse to watch the show again. Despite its flaws, I really, really love TFATWS, guys)

Without further ado, let's get down to it!

Episode 2: The Star-Spangled Man

I'm pretty sure I'm on record when it comes to my undying hate for John Walker, yes? So obviously, Bucky's grumpiness 100% stays 😂

I'm not really a fan of how much emphasis they put on the shield. I can see it as a catalyst for Bucky to go confront Sam, yes, but he wouldn't keep going "shield shield shield" like a broken record. Bucky has consistently been shown to be an empathetic man. I can't believe for a second that he'd be barking at Sam about having no right to give up the shield; he'd ask why. Sam's got shit to do, so he'd get impatient and not answer.

"Why'd you give up so easily? If you were overwhelmed, I could've helped you-" "You've been ignoring me. Like now, how you're ignoring me walking away from you." "Well, you weren't texting me about this." "You think I needed your permission?!" "No, but I was right there with Steve while he was learning what it meant to be Cap. I wouldn't mind helping you get used to-" "Then go teach him." A vague gesture toward the "Cap is back" posters. Bucky makes a face. "Steve passed the mantle to you. You fought with him. You earned it. That little shit didn't." "What do you want me to do about it?" "Just tell me why, Sam. I mean it. I just wanna understand." "Not now, Buck. I've got shit to do. You see me heading for a plane right now, right?" "This is important!" "So is this." Sam tells him about the Flag Smashers, we get our silly Big Three/Gandalf conversation.

I'm sorry, but that whole jumping from the plane scene is funny as hell, and I love all the nods they added in to jokes from the press tours that brought us this show in the first place (like ripping the sleeve off his jacket lol). I don't think I'd change a single thing from the Big Three convo to Bucky joining Sam in the warehouse.

"You're doing the staring thing again." "You're staring at your watch," Bucky points out. He knows it's linked to Redwing, he's just pointing out how dumb that line is in that situation. They're there for recon lol. They're meant to be looking around.

I don't...particularly care about the other common gripe here? Meaning, "Bucky's a civilian, so why is he allowed to randomly jump in on a military mission?" Bucky's also known in this universe as an Avenger, just like Sam, so I don't think anyone would really bat an eye at him joining. Also, I have my own agenda related to Bucky's apparent freedom to walk in and out of military/government things.

What does bug me (as funny as it is) is Bucky's animosity toward Redwing. Again... Bucky is a certified nerd. Always has been. If anything, he'd be fascinated by Redwing and Sam would constantly have to slap him away because he's leaning in too close trying to see the tiny watch monitor. "I don't trust Redwing" is just old man griping "I don't trust your newfangled technology" and that... that's not Bucky.

And that "we're not assassins" dig, and then laughing when Bucky gets upset? That's not Sam. Both of these men have shown a remarkable amount of empathy, and Sam has a background in helping traumatized vets. If he cared enough about Bucky to be texting him after Steve left, he'd care enough not to make callous jokes about his time as The Winter Soldier, whether he knows the full story or not.

The fight on top of moving trucks looks cool, but makes no logical sense. I keep trying to think of a way to explain this from a story perspective, rather than a lazy "it looks cool!" filmmaking one, and I'm coming up blank. Anyone with half a brain would have pulled over, had the fight, and then taken off. It was a fun sequence, though... Eh. I'll leave it.

When Karli breaks Redwing, Bucky doesn't say "I always wanted to do that." Again, it's funny - I love the jabs about that stupid robo bird XD - but not Bucky. In my version, he smirks and says "You're so gonna regret that."

"You were kinda getting your asses kicked before we got there." Is immediately followed by Bucky staring him down and asking, "And... how did that fight end for you?" Sam adds, "I don't see them in custody. Are-are they following in a van?" He looks around, sarcastically searching for another vehicle. Walker and Hoskins grimace at each other, grudgingly conceding that point.

credit to @dailycelebs

Seeing Walker, and having to listen to his stupid pro-government rhetoric, makes Bucky think about Steve. When we cut from the Flag Smashers back to Bucky and Sam and the closeup of Bucky's pensive face, we hear 1940s Steve angrily telling 1940s Bucky about how the higher ups in the army had already written off the POWs and were going to leave them to die. "I love our country, Buck," he laments, "but what do I do when I'm not too sure anymore about the people who run it?"

"What you always do," is young Bucky's answer, "stand for what's right, not who's in power."

Perfect lead-in to the conversation about handling things themselves.

When Sam meets Isaiah, and hears his story, not only is he horrified and heartsick for him, but he also begins to see Bucky in a new light. He's seeing Bucky's face, the way he tries to hide his emotions and not make this conversation about him, and he's putting things together. He's still upset at being out of the loop, but he's seeing more of the situation than just "omg black super soldier". When Bucky says "he'd already been through enough," Sam asks quietly, "like you?"

The racist cop comes back before Bucky can answer, to arrest him for missing his appointment with Raynor.

ngl guys, I was so moved by the difference in how that cop treated Sam (before knowing he's Important) vs how he treated Bucky (knowing that the government views him as a violent, if pardoned, criminal). He approaches Sam with his hand on his gun, eager to defend Bucky; "is this guy bothering you?" Just because they're having a heated conversation. Then, when he sees that there's a warrant for Bucky, he approaches timidly, apologizes, treats him gently and politely. By "moved," btw, I don't mean "it was so sweet." I mean "this is fucking sick, and very, very realistic." White cops see a white guy and treat him with respect regardless of his actual criminal record, while being openly hostile towards an innocent black man without even knowing who he is, just because he's black. Moments like this made me applaud Spellman.

"You, too, Sam - That wasn't a request" is Sam's first sign that there's something off about Raynor.

Look, again... The couples therapy banter is funny because Sebastian and Anthony are funny, but that scene, from a storytelling and a mental health standpoint, is atrocious. Without some underlying reason behind her actions, Raynor is just a pointlessly terrible therapist.

Rather than insulting Bucky from the outset, Sam is angry with Raynor for violating Bucky's privacy by not only introducing herself as his therapist, but forcing a "couples" session without her patient's consent. With his background pre-Avenging, he knows this shit shouldn't fly. He immediately points out how unprofessional she's being.

Raynor doesn't bother listening - the fuck does she care, really? She shrugs and casually admits it's "slightly unprofessional" but proceeds anyway.

"Whatever's eating at him?" Sam scoffs. "Did you really just say that to a WWII veteran and the world's longest-serving POW with complex PTSD? Did I hear that right? I've had, maybe, like five conversations with this man since we met, and even I know he's been through some shit and-" "Sam," Bucky tries to interrupt, looking uncomfortable. With his crushing guilt, he has an easier time dealing with insults than someone coming to his defense. "No," Sam snaps. "If the HIPAA Slayer over here wants to drag me into this, she's damn well gonna hear what I have to say!" He turns back to Raynor and demands, "Is this how you've been treating him this whole time? Downplaying what he's been through and making a grown-ass man sound like a sulking teenager?" Raynor keeps her cool, but barely. Visibly frustrated and annoyed, she ignores Sam's tirade and tries to force the conversation back onto the track she wants it on. Bucky's embarrassed and doesn't know how to react to any of this, so he still makes that little "he would talk less" jab. Sam, seeing that he's not going to get anywhere with him until they're away from this bitch, glowers and plays along. We get our silly/angry banter.

After their argument with Walker, Sam finally confronts Bucky about what really happened to him.

"He meant HYDRA; HYDRA used to be my people." "Were they?" Sam asks, stopping him and looking him in the eye, not letting him look away or deflect. "Steve was under the impression that they were your captors. I was under the impression that the Wakandans spent two years deprogramming you so no one could use you the way HYDRA did ever again." "I-" Startled, not expecting that, Bucky stutters a little and admits, "Yeah, I... That's true, I guess." "You guess?" "Does it matter? Sam rolls his eyes. "I dunno, does it matter that you were a slave for most of the 20th century?" "I doubt it matters much to my victims." "HYDRA's victims," Sam corrects firmly. "Just like you." Bucky fidgets; he doesn't know what to do or say. No one since Steve has even so much as insinuated that Bucky wasn't 100% culpable for what he did while under HYDRA control. "Look," Sam sighs, "I don't particularly like you. I don't hate you, but I'm not your biggest fan." "...Thanks?" "I just need you to know where I stand-" "Yeah, got it-" "-So you know I'm not biased like Steve when I say you had no choice. I don't know your story, but I know no one flips on a dime from docile and plagued with guilt to an unstoppable killing machine and back without some serious psychological damage behind that. I'm not saying you're an innocent little bunny, but I don't think you're a monster." "Thanks," Bucky croaks, more sincerely this time, and a bit choked up. He clears his throat and looks distinctly uncomfortable as he grumbles, "but to catch these guys, we may need to talk to a monster." Sam cringes. "I was afraid you'd say that."

[sillyrabbit81]

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.7k

Warnings: swearing, angst, drunk, motion of death

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 2 Part 4

Part 3

In less than ten minutes, we had pulled up to Liam's house. Liam paid for the taxi too. I kind of argued this time, but he pointed out he asked me to his house. I didn't get too stubborn about it.

Liam was living in a four-story terrace house, recently renovated by the looks of it. It was painted white with black wrought iron lacework, and it was beautiful. The front door and windows were painted black. It appeared to be the twin of the house that shared its wall.

We entered through the dining room, and I realised it was actually the two houses renovated together. The inside was modern with original heritage touches. The floors were light timber, and the walls were white. The ceilings had plaster and cornice so beautifully ornate that restoration must have taken ages. The room had an imposing black marble fireplace and a deep brown, almost black wooden dining table set on a grey shag rug in the room's centre. A huge abstract painting of bright pinks, greens and grey hung on the wall.

"Wow, this must have cost a mint!" I quickly covered my mouth. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"It's ok. I was pleasantly surprised by the house too. The studio got the house for me I...." Liam was interrupted by a massive dog bounding into the room.

Liam got down and roughhoused with the dog for a bit. Wow, he was a monster! I'd seen a picture of Cole before that "Will" had sent me, but I wasn't quite prepared for how big he was. He was almost completely black with some brown above his eyes and ears. His paws were brown too, and his belly was grey. He wasn't any particular breed, apparently a rescue dog. I thought of my bull terrier cross cattle dog at home. This dog would eat him for breakfast, and Perrin wasn't small.

Cole's pink tongue lolled, and he panted as Liam moved from side to side. Cole imitated Liam's actions jumping about. He barked a couple of times as he got excited by the play. The noise reverberated through the quiet house.

"Shhh, Cole, people are sleeping." Liam softly admonished. Then his voice became stern. "Sit," he ordered before patting him. Liam looked at me and said, "Lana, this is Cole. Cole, Lana."

"Hi, Cole. You're much bigger in person." I could hear the slight tremor in my voice. Liam must have sensed I was nervous and came over to stand near me. Cole padded over and sniffed at me. Gingerly, I put my hand by my side and let him approach me. Cole nuzzled my hand, and I gave him a pat on the side of his neck. I let out a sigh of relief.

"I was worried he wouldn't like me. I love dogs but always get nervous around new ones." Liam put his head to the side, asking a silent question. "I had a dingo go me one time, and I've never really gotten over it." I squatted down and gave Cole more pats. "I think this guy is ok, though."

"Yeah, he's a good boy. How is Perrin, by the way?"

"He's ok." I sighed, "he's just old. The poor little guy can't get onto my bed anymore and sleeps in my lounge room now. I kinda miss it, but I have slept a bit better."

Liam gave Cole some more pats and told him to go sit. "Come on. I'll make you a tea or coffee if you'd like." I agreed a coffee would be perfect right now. I needed something to sober me up.

I sat at the kitchen bench while Liam made coffees. Cole sat by my stool, and I patted his head while watching Liam. Liam had kicked off his shoes and was walking around in his bare feet. It was amazing to see him so much more relaxed here than while we were out. He really did appear to enjoy being at home.

As Liam made our coffee, he moved with a grace that surprised me. His movements seemed economical and rigid but hinted at the power beneath them. He seemed coiled and ready to explode at any moment. It was like he was dancing the pasodoble, his body moving to an invisible beat. Images of Strictly Ballroom came into my mind, and I found myself humming Love is in the Air. I was drunker than I thought.

When Liam was done, he led me over to his large L shaped lounge, and I sat. Liam flopped down next to me, casually laying back and popped his feet up on the coffee table. Cole sat on a mat that was clearly his.

I sipped my coffee, not knowing what else to do. Suddenly the quiet between Liam and I felt awkward.

Liam and I spoke at the same time, "What.." "So..."

We both laughed. Liam indicated I should proceed. "Well, I was going to ask what brought you out to Sydney, for real, not the Will answer."

"A new project. I'm going to be filming a television show." Liam proceeded to tell me about his project, working with some people from Netflix on a fantasy/sci-fi series adaptation. He was so animated when telling me that it was obvious that he loved his job.

It would be his first television series and was to be more romance heavy than anything he had done in years. Liam explained that he is filming here because the story was written and developed in Australia. "If it works out, I'll probably be based out of Australia for the next few years. I'll go home to England for a few months during breaks, maybe do some small film roles. It's hard with Cole, though, because every trip into Australia means 10 days quarantine for him."

"Oh yeah, and you don't want a Pistol and Boo situation." Liam looked confused, and I explained about Amber Heard and Johnny Depp smuggling their dogs into Australia.

"I thought you said you don't follow celebrity gossip."

"I don't, but that was big news, hilarious really. It was on every bit of media in Australia, and then they had to make this cringe video apology. I almost felt bad for them." Then I yawned, suddenly all the alcohol had lost its buzz, and I was just tired. "The coffee doesn't seem to be doing its job. What time is it?"

Liam looked at his watch, "11.30."

"Yeah, it's late. I should get home. I don't want to turn into a pumpkin." I cringed. Fuck.

"You don't have to go. You could stay here." I raised my eyebrows. "I do have more than one bed if that's what you want." Liam leaned over to me and placed a hand on my cheek, rubbing his thumb against my skin.

I looked at my nearly empty coffee mug. I swirled the dregs around the bottom as if it were tea leaves, and they would tell me what to do. "I don't want to go home yet, but I don't want to go too fast, either."

"That's ok."

I didn't move. I wanted to stay. Ten years ago, I would have stayed, but Andy's face flashed into my thoughts. I knew it was ridiculous. Andy had been gone for over three years now. But every time I even contemplated being with someone, I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Liam was waiting for an answer, but I didn't know what to tell him. 'It's not you, it's me' is such a tired cliche, but sometimes it's true.

"Lana, it's ok. If you want to go home, that's absolutely fine. I'll even call you an Uber."

I felt my eyes sting, and I looked away from Liam. My bloody traitorous tear ducts giving me away. I shouldn't have drunk so much. Alcohol always makes me emotional.

"Fuck." I swore under my breath. I angrily wiped at my eyes, thankful I had used waterproof mascara. My eyeliner was a different story, though, and black streaked my fingers. I asked Liam where his bathroom was, and I got up, only half listening to his directions. I found it quickly. It was only through the doorway into a little enclave with a powder room, stairs and a lift. What kind of bloody house has a lift?

I closed the door and sat on the toilet seat. I knew enough not to try to stop the tears, so I just let them go. Bloody hell, Andy. Why did he fucking have to leave me? Why the fuck did you have to fucking die. Goddammit. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I do this to Andy? I wanted to scream, to punch something, to throw something. I needed another cigarette. Fuck you, Andy. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck Liam.

As I always did when I thought of Andy, I remembered the last time I saw him. His sweet face looked down at me as he kissed me goodbye. His deep brown hair fell like a curtain around us, hiding our kiss from the world. Cheekily I had slipped my tongue into his mouth, and he had groaned as he pulled away. He told me to save it for when he got back and would be as quick as he could be. I had thanked him for filling in for me. He winked and said to thank him later. Then he left.

When I was able to, I started to take deep breaths. In through my nose, out through my mouth. I could feel the tightness in my chest slowly ease. Breathing became more comfortable, and the tears stopped. I looked at my hands, and I was able to release the fists I was making. My nails hadn't broken the skin this time, but small red crescents remained etched into my palms.

I waited a few minutes longer to make sure the moment had passed. It wasn't Andy's fault he died, and I knew that. It's also not my fault that I wanted someone to love again. Sleeping with someone other than Andy felt like crossing the Rubicon, no going back.

The fact was there is no going back, no Andy to go back to, even if I wanted. In my head, it still felt like a betrayal. But it wasn't. And Liam wasn't just anybody. He was a guy I had spent weeks talking to, getting to know, and although he looks different, he is still acting as I had expected. I saw a potential future here. Did I really want to let my past ruin it?

I cleared my throat and stood up, preparing myself to see the horror that looked back at me. Ugh, it wasn't great. My eyeliner had given me panda eyes, and the tears had created streaks down my cheeks.

Getting a tissue and blew my nose, and decided there was nothing else for it, I washed my makeup off my face. I avoided washing my eye makeup off though, that was a mess I just didn't have the products for, so I just wiped under my eyes and cleaned it up. I binned my tissues, washed my hands, took a few more deep breaths and prepared myself to face Liam.

I opened the door and walked straight into something solid that made me bounce back into the bathroom like a tennis ball. Hands caught me before I hit the floor, and I found myself in Liam's arms.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" He asked.

"No," I was flustered again. I spent all that time calming down to just be in a state two seconds later. "I just didn't expect you to be outside the door. Jesus, you're like a brick shit house."

Liam didn't laugh. "I was worried about you."

"I'm fine," I lied.

Liam didn't look convinced. He let me go and ran a hand through his hair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now."

Liam nodded. "I'll get you that Uber." He pulled his phone out.

That's it then. All in all, it wasn't the worst date I'd been on since Andy died. Actually, it was probably the best. Liam, at least, was a guy I was attracted to and didn't appear to be a man child. He seemed to like me, even when I cried over another man. Although I doubt Liam knew that's why I was crying. I had told him I was married before and he had died, but that was only once and a long time ago, and we hadn't discussed it again.

The tears had done their job, and a calmness came over me now. I had said goodbye to Andy, and I was ready to take that last step to move on. That was why I started to date again; to open my heart, I was ready.

I put my hand on Liam's wrist, "if you still want me to, I'd like to stay."

"Are you sure? I probably shouldn't have asked in the first place. I let my other head think for me." Though I laughed at his candid admission, Liam's face was serious. "I'm not joking. I want you, and I didn't think about how you must be feeling. The whole fake profile thing must still be weighing on your mind. And all of the other problems that go along with being with me. You should have more time to think about it."

And my dead husband, let's not forget that. I didn't say that out loud, thank God. "I will have time to think about it. But right now, I want..." Shit. I've gone shy again. Just fucking tell him you want him too! "I mean, can't we just have a bit of a cuddle and a snog?"

Liam's lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile, "a cuddle and a snog?"

I nodded.

Smiling, Liam put his phone back in his pocket. "I think I can arrange that."

Without further warning, Liam grabbed my wrists in one hand and pinned them to the wall above my head. His other hand snaked around my waist, holding me to him, his hips rolling into mine. His eyes were fierce and focused on mine. I  closed my eyes, the sensations too much, and my breath quickened.

I heard Liam say through gritted teeth, "It's taken everything I had not to do this to you since I saw you at the bar. I wanted to take you then and there." His voice seemed to ease, the words coming easier for him. "You don't know how much I've wanted to touch you. To know you are real." Then he whispered, "and you are. Real. You're as beautiful tonight as you were in your pictures."

I opened my eyes and found Liam staring at me, and his intensity was nearly frightening. He pulled me tighter against himself, his fingertips digging into me while he crushed me against his body. I felt his hardness against my hip, and I couldn't stop myself from rubbing against it. This time Liam closed his eyes, and I felt the rush of blood to my centre.

Liam opened his eyes, desire naked on his face, "Kiss me," he said.

I met his soft and warm lips. I felt Liam's groan rumble in his vast chest, and kissing him again, my lips scraped against his whiskers. Liam kissed me back now. His tongue pushed past my lips, and found mine. His tongue playfully danced in my mouth. Liam's hand left my arse and started to feel my hips, my waist and then my breasts. He cupped them and gently squeezed. My breath caught as his hand skimmed past my nipple. His palm created friction against the lace of my bra, and tingles radiated through my body.

His lips left mine and went to my neck. He kissed and sucked at me, moving down to the top of my breasts. I heard him take a deep breath into my chest as his cheeks rubbed against my skin. His kisses became harder against my chest and moved back up to my neck, his teeth nipping at me as he went. Even though he had me captured, I wriggled against him, my hips moved uncontrollably, my breath uneven and weak.

Liam pulled away, still firmly gripping one of my hands. "Come with me." Liam led me to the lift.

"Where are we going?"

"To my bedroom." I pulled against him, forcing him to stop. "Sweetheart, I promise I won't fuck you until you ask."

My legs turned to jelly. I wanted to fall to my knees and beg despite my reservations. I nodded and followed Liam into the lift.

Part 4

[rogue-barnes-16]

THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF NATASHA ROMANOFF (part V/?)

Summary: after the too convenient disappearance of Natasha Romanoff, the Avengers —a local biker gang— search for help in the most unexpected place in order to get their friend back. Will it help, or will the situation just get more twisted and dangerous?

Pairing: biker!Bucky Barnes x reader

Genre: angst-ish (biker gang au)

Tags:

The mysterious disappearance of Natasha Romanoff: @shirukitsune @retrxbarnes @montypythonsholysnail

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language

A/N: I've been kinda missing for quite a while, posting something here and there, but I kinda miss writing regularly so I'll try come back to posting twice-thrice a week, but you gotta give me a bit to get some shit rearranged and written for that schedule to be possible. Meanwhile, enjoy this part of the series and if you wanna be added to the taglist, send an ask <3.

The mysterious disappearance of Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

I took a deep breath and threw myself against the backrest, waiting for the first location to load while my hands ran through up my face and through my hair.

A yawn escaped my lips as I checked the laptop's clock first, and the timer for the code to do its magic second.

Leaving the laptop over the chair where I had been sitting, I walked my way to the kitchen and poured myself what would be the fourth coffee of that morning.

As soon as I finished, I made my way to the balcony were I used to spend those early mornings with my mug held between my palms.

I took a sip of my coffee, resting my elbows over the small balcony's railing. My were eyes closed as I breathed in the forest morning breeze.

"So much for saying it was a one-night stand." A teasing voice behind me asked, and a grin tugged the corners of my lips. "You still here?"

"It's been two weeks since that." I taunted him, taking a sip. "get over it."

"can't get over you." He dramatically stated in his morning husky voice, which made the sentence seem way more romantic than I thought it was.

"So fucking cheesy." I laughed.

"Bare with me, doll." feeling his lips against my temple made my smile wider while a pair of hands traveled from behind me to rest on my hips. "this is mine." he tugged the hem of his jacket, which I was wearing.

I hummed in response, leaning my back against his chest. "It's chilly out here. I didn't wanna get cold."

He tugged the hem of his jacket eagerly, feathery kisses tracing a path from my shoulder to my neck "come back to bed" I chuckled at his eagerness . " it's still warm."

"I got work to do" I replied noctant with the sole goal of sort-of upsetting him in a playful way. "No time for cuddling."

"Please, Y/n." he whined, slowly pulling me away from the balcony to take me back to the bed. "Just ten minutes."

"It's not gonna be ten minutes." I retorted playfully, turning around to kiss his lips as we entered the bedroom once more. "You're not fooling anyone with those puppy eyes, Barnes."

He let out a subtle laugh "at least you won't get cold."

I shivered.

It was always a little bit too chilly during the morning in that balcony.

I felt the urge to squeal when a jacket was suddenly thrown over my shoulders as a reply to my subtle shiver.

I held it back, though, and instead, grabbed the lapels clothing offered and put it on while a tall figure made its way to my side "Drop the coffee, yunky." Sam teased, resting his elbows over the railing without sparing me more than a subtle glance. "it's like the tenth one I see you with this mornin'."

"It's just the fourth one." I responded, looking before me to avoid eye contact with him as I took a sip of the coffee. "It's nice to see your level of drama hasn't changed at all."

"it's good to see your level of sarcasm is still the same, too." I shook my head with a smirk I couldn't hold back. "I kinda missed that annoying sass."

"Oh boy, ain't I aware of that."

His amused yet brief chuckle preceeded a surprisingly soothing silence between the two of us.

"So" I looked over to him and, by the knowing half smile in his face as he watched me intently, I just knew what he was going to mention. "a boyfriend?"

"Hell no," I denied with a scoff. "we're not talking 'bout that."

"C'mon, Y/n." he whined, turning to face my side. "I won't tell Barnes."

"Sam" I pinched the bridge of my nose as all the bad memories from those last days with them came back around, as if they had been summoned by Bucky’s last name. "I still don't trust you. Any of you."

"Uh... Sorry."

"Like-- I appreciate you tryin" I explained the best way I could. "but we're not there yet, and I don't know if we ever will."

"Yeah I'm-"

I shut my eyes as the self-awareness of how rude I might have sounded hit me. "I'm sorry I-"

"No, no, I'm sorry, you're right." he sighed, rubbing is hands together in an anxious manner. "And... I know it's not my place to ask any of this, but-" he took a split second to measure his words before speaking. "You're happy with him, right?"

I frowned, not at the question itself, but at what was carefully hidden behind it. "what d'ya mean?"

"I mean, you're with him because he makes you happy, right?"

"Wilson, why the fuck would I be with him if he didn't?" I inquired, now turning around to face him as my tone turned more hostile each passing second.

"I shouldn't be sayin' this but-"

"But you're gonna say it anyway." I finished. He opened his mouth a couple of times but nothing came out. "C'mon, what d'ya mean?"

"Listen-" he glanced around before continuing the sentence he had just started. "I'm just sayin I hope it's 'cause you're happy together and not 'cause of Bucky."

We eyeballed each other for a hot second while the anger built up inside me, making it so damn hard for me not to explode.

"Y'know what? I'm not havin' it." I stated, stepping away from the balcony in order to reach the living room.

"That's not an answer."

"You don't fuckin' deserve one." I hissed, grabbing the laptop to finish what was left to do as quickly as I could, now eager to flee out of there.

How dare him? I thought to myself. Who the fuck gave him the right to say shit like that.

The moment I was done with the laptop, I smacked it shut and, picking up my jacket, I rushed downstairs.

I was so inside my thoughts that I ended up bumping into Bucky on my way out, which left us both with barely enough balance to avoid falling down the stairs.

"Shit- sorry."

"Don't worry." he let go of my forearms, which I didn't know he was holding, and I shockingly enough, had to do the same, since I gripped his arms to avoid falling. "You okay?"

"Yeah- I mean..." I puffed, affirming with my head. "I'm fine."

"I..." I stared into his eyes for a moment, watching him trying to read me in order to find out what was wrong. "You sure?" I only nodded as his worried irises observed me. "you finished?"

"Yeah, everything's set in the laptop already." he mumbled an 'alright' and stepped aside, freeing the way for me to exit. "I... I really hope you find her."

"I'll call you if I need your help again." he answered, and, right after, attempted to climb upstairs.

"Bucky wait!" I followed him just to be close enough to be able to grab his hand, which made his whole body tense. "I changed my number." I explained whilst getting a pen out of my pocket to scribble my new number on his palm. "there it goes." I let go of him with a pang of sadness that I wouldn't even admit to myself. "keep me updated." I requested, trying my best to ignore the tinge of red creeping up his neck and ears.

"Okay. Have a good time with your boyfriend." what was meant to be a smile ended up as a pursed lip, and I couldn't blame him since I felt my mouth doing the same gesture as I climbed downstairs to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

I double checked Natasha's phone's latest locations, which Y/n had managed to get before leaving, before going back to the map in order to revise which were areas out of New Jersey and Queens.

"Hey" I spun my head to the door frame, against where Sam's side was now resting. "How's it going?"

"Uh... I think we have something." I informed him, pointing at one small area near the center of Manhattan. "I called Carter— I know, Steve's gonna kill me." I stated, anticipating whatever Sam must have thought of saying out loud. "She said Hydra's boys have been seen in this area for a while and--"

"I wasn't asking 'bout Nat." he cut me off, tilting his head to the side slightly while the faintest tinge of worry showed up in his eyes. "I meant-- y'know what I meant."

"What d'ya want me to say?" I questioned with a wannabe-careless shrug. "It's going. Just like it's been goin' for 'bout year already."

I took a peek at his face and I just knew he was about to explain to me how different it had been today from the rest of that year of me drowning in self-pity.

"Don't-"

"She got a boyfriend."

"Yeah, I heard that too." I replied sarcastically, getting up in order to reach for the phone again.

"What I mean-"

"She moved on, I know." I finished his sentence, starting to mark Peggy's number once again. "Can you focus on-"

Sam teared the phone away from me in a swift movement, which left me shocked for a couple of seconds.

"what the hell, Wilson?"

"Don't call Peggy," he warned me, locking the phone and placing it in his pocket. "Steve's gonna end you. And-"

"I swear if it's 'bout-"

"I wasn't gonna say that she moved on, you idiot." he snapped. "I was gonna say, don't do anything fucking stupid."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means she's not single." my friend warned me with arms crossed, no longer resting against the door frame. "It means that if somethin' happens and she doesn't stop it-"

"Nothin'll happen," I assured him with a sting of pain in my heart.

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm just sayin'..."

"Sam."

"I'm tryna help, man." his reply sounded as a desperate whine. "If you do something stupid and her relationship goes south, the blame's gonna be on you."

"It wouldn't-"

"It will," he argued, lowering the voice before continuing. " 'cause it's easier to blame the ex who fucked her up."

"We're all adults."

"Yeah" he agreed. "but you're my friend and I don't wanna see you bawling and weeping for another year."

"I'll be just fine."

[bigscaryyanderewriter]

Frosty Fear and the Fury of Flames (Dragonshifter! Shouto x Reader) Part 3

Part 2 ^

Hahaha, a part 3 for you??? It’s more likely than you’d think. This is actually kinda fun to write in parts, although it takes me a while. I have a few requests waiting to be answered still and that kinda bums me out still. Gonna be getting a lot more of Todoroki though. Haha… I like fire boys. Also, if you can’t tell. I really want to play dnd.

Tw: Yandere, Nightmares, Slight Gore

2.1k Words

“Bakugou, are you sure about this? I mean-” 

“Did I ask for your opinion, Shitty hair? Come on, get that damn wimp ready to go. We’re going to need to get out of here if we are going to get them away from that damn dragon.” The grimace on his face as deeper set than usual as you were forced to pack up with the others yet again.

They were going to abandon their mission, since there were other things they could do. That was what Bakugou told you at least, you had a feeling that none of the jobs in this tavern were worth half as much to the group as the one involving Shouto was. Still, you were grateful that they wanted you to stay and that you could be useful to them.

You couldn’t stop the sinking feeling though as you knew that getting farther away would be good, but also… They had to do something like give up the goal they had been working towards to assist you. 

The morning was still dark, no sun peaked on the horizon as the birds only just began singing their morning songs. The bags were packed and soon you were all ready to go by the time the sky began to lighten. You would be heading east and down the mountains a good ways until you got to the plains, travelling for about two weeks before stopping in another city called White Fields. Something was said about dangerous rock formations that would cause small landslides and magic folk you couldn't talk to. Not much rest would be allowed, wanting to get as far as possible from the mountains and desert. If luck was on their side, they would be out of reach by that point, since Shouto was still unable to travel that far from what you have learned. Something about territory disputes and bad blood.

That was the plan and you were praying to whatever would listen that it would work. 

"Are you ready, (Y/N)? We had better get going." Mina spoke from the doorway of the little room of the inn. Her face showed a bit of concerned and you realized you had been scratching a bit at your arm. You hurriedly covered the scratches and grabbed the sack with your more material belongings, the golden jewelry, things you had taken from the cave. Following her out to the boys, you all got moving as you walked out of town. 

The place where the sun rose was your destination. Going throughout the day. The further day the mountains, the darker the forests and the colder it was. It was a bit misty out with the morning still being new. The winter would hit quickly this year and you could tell. At least it would here. The cold air from last night seemed to be cradled here. Your arm hairs prickled as you all walked. 

It was as you pulled your arms closer to yourself that you heard Denki speaking, "Hey, you look… like you might want this." He pulled off the warm yellow cloak he had worn throughout the time you had seen him and offered to hand it to you.

"Oh- It's nothing. I'll be fine… The sun will warm me up soon enough. You know I'm not a princess though, so you probably shouldn't call me that." You said with a tiny fake smile. "I appreciate the offer though."

"Aw, maybe I shouldn't call you princess then. No princess holds a candle to you anyways! You have to be the product of some goddess of beauty." He laughed as you couldn't stop the heat rushing to your face, "Don't be so shy. I'm just teasing you. Though you do make a cute face when you're embarrassed. Still, you should take it. I'll be fine without it for a minute."

"Kaminari, I swear to all the gods that I will shove so many rocks into your mouth, if you don't stop flirting. You'll be shitting so many rocks that you could put it on a resume." Bakugo was throwing nonsense threats and this just resulted in some laughter as you had never heard a threat more ridiculous. It was like it was written by someone who didn't actually know how to properly threaten people or something. 

Ah yes. That is me. The narrator, who cannot narrate without getting sidetracked. Now, watching you and the group laugh… The tension of impending doom is nowhere to be found as you all walk the beginnings of the mountains' autumnal scenery. The yellow cloak draped on your shoulders as you continued and Denki at your side, chatting idly with you. His presence and the conversation taking the pressure of the situation away. It seemed he was an expert, being a bard. Something told you to be careful though. The stereotype with musicians and their unfaithfulness… 

There was more time to mull over the prospect later, but you also just found him so jolly. It was a real treat. Going through the day, nothing happened. It was painfully boring event-wise, tiring, but you made progress. You had begun to feel uneasy, despite Kaminari distracting. Something was lurking in the forests, in the trees. Everything seemed about as turned around for you as a spinning carnival mirror maze. 

Sero, Kiri, and Mina seemed to have had no problem as you were led by them. The group was much closer together now and the laughter began to cease. Night would come and the wish to leave these mountains was becoming louder within your head. It was eerie.

No one spoke much while the dark branches of nearly black barked pines hung above with their ruddy red leaves. The silver of the wood beneath was visibly upon some broken branches and on the stumps that you would sometimes pass on the thinning path. They looked unpleasantly rough to touch. Small barbs lining the branches and serving as more than a small warning to be careful around them. 

Soon the light would go, so Kiri found a spot around where some trees had fallen and sat up a fire for the night, while you picked up anything on the ground to make it less rocky. It was also handy for you to get more sticks for the fire. These trees burned infamously easy. A single mistake with a fire and it could go up in minutes, but it would burn for a long time. It was not usual for anyone to cut any down due to the inhabitants though and the consequences. You didn't know what they were and you weren't about to try to find out by harming the forest. 

Dinner was easy, still being able to have some good leftovers from the inn. You had to eat them all today, but it was still going to be fuel until the next time you went to eat fresh food, cooked by someone else at least.

Denki couldn't help lightening the mood as he pulled out his stringed instrument and started playing a lovely song… It was familiar, somehow. You struggled to think of what it was called, but you knew the words. It was peaceful and it definitely seemed to help Mina perk up again as she began talking with Sero. Bakugo seemed less irritable as he ate, the music must calm the beast. You couldn't help the smile that came on your face at that thought.

Singing along probably wouldn't keep him calm, but you oh so wanted to… It would be a little embarrassing, but others might join in.

So you did. It was time to have some fun.

You hummed along and started singing, 

"How much is love worth?

Yet, we're giving it for free.

Didn't cost a penny, but

I've gained everything.

I'd do anything to make her smile

My darling

My darling

Darling~

If only she would look out

Of that dreamy little world

She would then see

That while I am no prince

And will make her crazier than me

I would never quit to admit I'm wrong

I'd always get on her nerves,

She would hate the way I eat

And only then it's worse.

I'd complain about her mother

Even though she's quite alright

I won't stop til I see her blush

Red in the dead of night.

An immoral proposition

If not only for a tease

But I have some qualities

that put her mind at ease.

I love her more than the sea does a shore

As the sun does the horizon,

Unafraid to come back home

And get her blood arising 

Kiss her face and hold her hand

I'll never let her go.

I'm lucky that she loves it

Where I'd be without it, who would know

That she likes to feel the spite

That even though I mess around

I'm in her bed tonight 

Of my darling,

My darling

My darling

Darling

Not doing as the birds and bees 

But holding on her hand,

Kissing at her face

And saying things for show

Her pretty crimson blush

Cause when I see it, then I know

That the hand life dealt

Was a royal flush."

Denki sang with you as the others watch, some la's and humming as you got up with a spin. The swirl of your dress and body as you sang out each part with more confidence. Mina laughed when you would dance and Kirishima was keeping the beat.

After a while, the singing stopped and soon the group started to settle in. 

Bakugo took first watch with Kirishima, Sero and Denki. Then Mina and you. Only because of practicality. It was to be in three hour shifts. It was when you laid down on your bed roll and cover yourself with a blanket you had been given. The night would be cold, but the fire was big enough to warm you as you sleep. As soon as you eyes closed, you were out. A day of travelling made you more than ready to sleep. It was a wonderful thing to sleep with good dreams, but you seemed to lack any dreams lately.

Not tonight.

You woke up in an ashen forest. Smoke choked life as blue flames rose in the distance. It snowed. You could hardly distinguish the ash from the snow until it would either burn you or melt on your skin. Getting up was impossible, the burning branch crushed your legs.

The acrid smell of burnt hair and smoke. It stung your eyes as you tried to tears away while coughing. You just couldn't stop coughing. "Please! Please! Denki?! Mina!" 

You were crying and struggling. The wood was too heavy and you could see the blood on the snow. You were bleeding heavily. It hurt. It hurt.

"Somebody help me! Please! I don't want to die." You couldn't stop the tears as you thrashed about. Soon you stopped though. A growl sounding above you. Blue eyes and blackened scales, injuries beyond counting.

El diablo azul. The shivering continued as you looked up, nothing short of full blown trembling as he snorted hot air over you and knocked the branch away. Draconic was spoken to you as you scrambled back from him. It was deep and grumbling, not hissing or growling like the words spoken by Endeavor or Shouto. 

"I don't under- understand. Thank you though…" You couldn't look away from those blue eyes as they seemed to glint with amusement before the great black wings beat against the air. Smoke and snow getting caught up as he was off again and soaring over the burning forest. Lying in the snow though, you wouldn't be able to get up. Maybe he wanted to give you a chance to survive. So you pulled yourself up and began to walk through the blizzard, blood oozing from your thigh and ash caked on your skin. You weren't going to make that help mean nothing.

Though, you were confident. You looked up to see something far worse than the fire ahead. Red and white scales. Shouto was coming for you. 

Blinking your eyes open as you were shaken awake. Sweat coated your body while you panted, "Stop- Stop! Please."

It was as you jolted up, you saw Denki looking with fear at you. His hands had been shaking you awake and scrambled away. Out of breath as you looked around frantically. "Shshshh, You need to be quiet. You're attracting too much attention. You were screaming in your sleep. What in the world were you dreaming about…?"

"Nothing, it was nothing, Denki… Just a bad dream. I um, I'll take the rest of your shift if you want to go back to sleep. I don't think I can…" You murmurred.