#I’m so emotional over this tree you guys don’t even know

[spoofyleaf]

Sometimes I remember that my whole house was so obsessed with the show Merlin, that we named the first tree we planted in the yard Merlin.

When it was given to us 11 years ago it was hardly a scraggly stick, and now it looks like a giant bush

Artist rendition

[aboutcustardcreams]

Until next time

Agathario x reader

The scene in the forest where Agatha delivered the baby is living in my head rent free and I just couldn't resist the urge to write an os about it. Rewrite, actually. It's my first Agatha's fic, so I'm pretty excited. Hope you guys like it <3

warning: angst, a touch of fluff

The baby’s soft cries echoed in the forest, as a reminder that a life has just begun, tender and innocent. Agatha was perched by a tree, only wrapped in a light and crumbled vest. Her cloak dropped somewhere a few feet away. The sweat and the pressure at her lower abdomen finally subsided, making her feel like she could breathe properly again. There was blood between her legs, staining her inner thighs, flooding and then drying out to her knees. Everything kind of hurt, her eyes were heavy, but her senses stayed alert. 

“Move,” the Green Witch muttered in a placid order. 

You looked into her eyes, slowly shaking your head, as you stood in front of Agatha, shielding her and the baby, “No.”

The witch felt a wave of relief wash over her when she heard your simple, yet categorical answer. She was in no condition to fight against Rio on this, despite the fire in her eyes and the weak magic already tingling her digits. 

Rio sighed, “we aren’t doing this. You promised–”

“I know what I did,” you interjected, closing your hands into fists, “But I changed my mind. I am allowed to change my mind,” you pointed out, voice thick with emotion. You couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye to a child you didn’t even hold in your arms yet. “I-I can’t let you take him,” turning around, your eyes focused on the baby’s tiny head peeking out of the little blanket Agatha wrapped him in. “I mean, he’s innocent. It can’t be his time…”

“My loves–” 

“Just let him live,” Agatha interjected, her voice both exhausted and desperate. She never felt so scared before, “Please, don’t take him from me.” 

When he clasped his tiny hands in her long wavy hair, her lips brushed against his head, “I love you,” she smiled, rocking him ever so gently, “I love you so much.”

Your heart melted at the sight before your eyes. Rio felt a slight indecision tugging at her chest. She never thought the first time she would hold her son would be to carry him in the afterlife. It felt cruel. It was cruel. But he was sick, he could feel his disease, hovering like a shadow around him. 

“I’m not giving up. Not yet,” you insisted. 

“You talk as if I didn’t wish for him to live,” Rio retorted in disbelief. 

“Oh, spare us, Rio!” Agatha snapped. “You’re the Green Witch, it’s not like you’ve got no power at your disposal. And yet you’re choosing the easy way.”

Rio couldn’t believe her ears. “The easy way you say? Are you nuts? He is my son too, Agatha!”

You frowned at their bickering. Last thing you wanted was to indulge in this fight. This moment was supposed to bring joy to your lives. A child was born, your child for fuck’s sake. Why couldn’t you three be happy about it? Why couldn’t you cherish the moment? He was sick, but you could still try to save him. Work together to make it possible. You, Agatha and Rio weren’t common witches after all, and if there was someone able to find a loophole, it would be you. 

“Then start acting more like a mother,” Agatha retorted, voice dropping in a whisper. 

“It’s not my fault I’ve got responsibilities, Agatha. I never asked to be like this,” Rio’s voice wavered a bit, her heart thumping in her chest with painful insistence. 

“My loves, please we shouldn’t–”

The sound of Agatha’s mocking laughter prevented you from finishing off that sentence. “What about the responsibilities towards our son? He should come first.” 

“Our son is sick, and in order for him to live, many will have to die. It will cause absolute chaos.”

“So be it. All I care about is my son.” Her icy blue eyes sparkling dangerously as she said those words with force and a bit of selfishness. 

You considered Rio’s words; a bunch of conflicted emotions passed through you. Rio wouldn’t say those things if she knew there was another way out of this. But maybe if she couldn’t find it, you could, if only you were granted more time to figure it out. 

“If you take him, I’ll hate you forever,” she insisted rather calmly now. 

“Agatha…”

Color drained from your face at those words. You knew she didn’t mean that. She couldn’t. When a muffled sound slipped from Rio’s lips, a mixture between a choked sob and a scoff, you drew closer to her, your hands immediately finding her cheeks. You weren’t supposed to pick sides. You were a family, and it should stay like that. 

“She doesn’t mean it,” you said both softly and firmly, thumbs brushing against her cheekbones. She rolled her eyes and you took a firmer grip on her face, so that she would focus on your eyes, “Rio, listen to me, she doesn’t–”

“I do.” Agatha deadpanned, cutting you off.  

You hissed, “Quiet, Agatha.” 

Rio let out a quiet humorless chuckle, when the other witch grumbled something under her breath. 

“We are just scared, my love. We want this child to live, we need him to, do you understand that?” 

When your voice croaked slightly, her hands tangled in your hair and pulled you closer to her, “I know, baby. I know,” she cooed, getting lost in those wet lashes of yours.

You swallowed thickly, “I don’t want to say goodbye.” 

She leaned in and brushed her lips right under your eye, her magic immediately mingling with yours. Your eyelids fluttered close and you let out a faint mewl. 

“I can only offer time,” she said, once she pulled away, so that she could meet both yours and Agatha’s eyes.

You arched an eyebrow confusedly, “what does it mean?”

“How much time?” Asked Agatha. 

She shrugged, as if she didn’t know or she couldn’t really say. Her behavior only served the purpose of making you more nervous. Crossing your arms over your chest, you knew that you’d have to use this time to master your own powers. To make sure that whenever Rio intended on collecting your son’s soul, you’d be ready to fight. Not her of course, but the process of Death itself. You were a necromancer witch, whose powers were completely opposite to Rio’s. While her job was to keep order between life and death, your powers could easily break that balance if you wanted to. Meaning that you could resurrect life forms.

“You know I’ll still try when the time comes, don’t you?”

Rio looked at you and despite your words, she smiled, “I know, love. Thought I’d hate you if you decided to interfere, but honestly, I hope you win.” 

It was your turn to crack a smile in her direction. “It’s not a competition, Rio. All I want is to keep our child alive.” 

She hummed, without voicing her concerns out loud, not wanting to add more to yours and Agatha’s shoulders, “You two will make a good job.”

You and Agatha exchanged a confused look, “you sound like you’re leaving us behind,” she trailed off. 

When Rio averted her eyes, lips pressed in a thin line, you were sure you felt your heart shatter. 

“No, she’s not-” you looked at Agatha, hoping to have got it all wrong. But when you spotted tears welling up in her eyes, you realized the truth. 

“Rio, please, don’t do this–”

“I must. I can’t be seen around him,” her tone was sad, yet you could still feel the love filling each word. You kept shaking your head in denial. “Might be difficult to believe but there are women above me I respond to.” 

“The Fates have no power if you don’t do your part,” Agatha pointed out, hoping to be right.

Rio smacked her lips in return. “It’s not that simple. Atropos, the eldest of the three, could give me a really hard time if I disobey.” 

You clenched your jaw at her words. The thought of handing your son’s life in the hands of those crones made absolutely no sense to you. They shouldn’t be entitled to take the life of an innocent just like that. You were a necromancer witch, meaning that you could change things. For a long time you buried that part of yourself within you, because of the things you’ve been told all your life. Interfering with the natural order of the things was wrong; your power was an abomination, but at that moment, all those warnings sounded like bullshit. 

Rio sensed your distress, her fingers brushed yours, “I’ll keep him hidden for as long as I can.” 

Then she turned to Agatha and pointed at the baby in the silent, almost timid request to approach him. She still had to see him properly after all. Agatha nodded and moved the child so that he would face her, tucking a bit of the blanket underneath his chin to better expose his tiny face. 

Rio brushed a strand of Agatha’s hair first, “you did amazing, my love,” she praised her, causing a light brush on the witch’s cheeks. She couldn’t quite believe she, you three created such a beautiful baby boy from scratch. 

“Hi” she cooed, now focusing on the newborn. You leaned against the tree, the same tree Agatha was perched by, and looked from above the sweet interaction going on. Rio’s fingertips grazed over his tiny, perfect nose. “I can’t promise you a life devoid of challenges and pain, but I confide in your mothers to always make sure you’re happy and loved,” she lifted her eyes to meet yours and Agatha’s. A watery smile tugged at her lips, “And trust me, you’re so so loved already, little one.” 

You wiped the corners of your eyes and so did Agatha. 

“We should name him Nicholas,” she said after a moment of contemplation.  

Knowing the meaning of the name, you felt like you couldn’t agree more on it, “Nicholas Scratch,” you added, “cause we made him from scratch.” 

Rio turned towards you, while her fingers played with the baby’s tender little hands. “That’s perfect, my love. Isn’t it, Agatha?”

Agatha swallowed thickly, already mourning the loss of Rio, despite her being still there. She nodded, and then she tangled a hand in Rio’s hair, pulling her closer to her face. For a moment she only leaned against her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent of flowers. Then the Green Witch took the initiative and placed her lips on top of hers, savoring with extreme gentleness, the plumpiness of Agatha’s. You ran a hand in Agatha’s hair, fingers stroking her scalp to let her feel your presence too, while your eyes darted on Rio. When Agatha let out a choked sob in Rio’s mouth, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened in such a short time, the other hushed her softly, “it’s going to be okay.”

Neither you nor Agatha were sure about it, but you had no other choice than to believe her. 

“Take care of your moms, Nicky,” she later added, placing one last kiss on his forehead and then on Agatha’s. 

Once she stood up again, she focused her attention on you. In an ideal world, you’d be her enemy, because of the powers you possessed. And yet, against all the odds, you became her lover, one of the most important persons in her life. 

“Don’t be sad…”

You nibbled on your inner cheek so hard you drew blood. With your arms crossed over your chest, you struggled to spill a single word because you didn’t trust your voice at the moment. Your entire body was shaking on the inside. Agatha never saw you look so fragile before. It felt like a stab in her chest to witness her family fall apart like that. 

“You’re asking too much of me,” you kept your eyes down, focusing on the tip of your boots. 

“Nena, look at me,” Rio tried to meet your eyes, but you purposefully kept it down, shaking it stubbornly and hopelessly. She smiled, feigning hurt in her tone as she continued, “You wouldn’t let me go without a proper kiss now, would you?” 

Despite your best efforts, you let out a small watery chuckle at her playful teasing, “I hate that you’re doing this.”

“It’s for Nicky…” She said simply. 

Agatha buried her face in the baby’s naked shoulder, finding comfort in his pure and unique scent. 

“And I am sorry,” when you finally met her eyes, Rio cupped your cheeks, “so sorry you don’t get to be his mother. It’s your right to be.”

But Rio’s lips curled into a reassuring smile, despite her sadness. “Don’t be. I’ll get my turn eventually…  and for now, I’ll be his–”

“Please, don’t say shadow,” you muttered, and that elicited a small chuckle out of the Green Witch. If you turned around you’d see Agatha’s lips stretch into a smile too. 

“Guardian, then.”

You hummed and licked your lips, tasting the saltiness of your own tears in your mouth. 

“Now come here, I waited enough–” 

The witch pulled you closer with ease. Your body crashed into hers but it was okay because she was ready to hold you. 

Agatha could see Rio’s face as she hugged you. She spotted a single tear slip down her eye and her stomach lurched. When you two pulled away, Rio took a few steps back, pulling the green cloak over her head. She lingered a few seconds to memorize the scene before her. You dropped on your knees and landed next to Agatha. Her head immediately lolled on your shoulder, and you turned yours to place your lips in her hair. 

Rio waved softly, then blew a kiss to each of you, “Nos vemos, mis amores.” 

You and Agatha nodded quietly, watching the Green Witch disappear before your eyes. Agatha let out a silent sob when she did; your arms immediately wrapped around her and the baby in a protective embrace. 

“We will be fine, Aggs.” 

When Agatha met your gaze, eyes full of hope and vulnerability, you took a mental vow to protect her and Nicky whatever the cost. 

“Yeah,” she echoed with a smile you immediately reciprocated. She closed her eyes when you leaned in to brush your lips against her still clammy forehead. 

When the baby started crying again, you two pulled away and focused your attention on Nicky. He looked rather pale for your liking, a little warm too. You knew what he needed and so did Agatha. You placed a tender kiss on his cheek, Agatha’s lips curling into a soft smile, while you did. Then you stood, hands on your hips, eyes roaming around your surroundings like a predator looking for its prey. You didn’t want to do this, but you were just a mother trying to keep your son alive. 

When Agatha attempted to get up, you interjected, “stay here for now. Let me do the rest.”

Her expression shifted from confusion to worry, “You shouldn’t be doing this alone.”

“Agatha,” you merely rolled your eyes at that, “You just had our baby, I think it’s not the end of the world if you sit this one out,” your voice laced with a hint of playfulness despite the things you had to do. It’s not that you never killed before, cause you did. Not in cold blood though. You forced yourself into believing that it wouldn’t be much different. Once a wise person told you, a witch must do anything in her power to survive and there’s no shame in that. You were looking at her now, as her attention remained fixed on you. 

“Be careful,” it was supposed to sound like an order, but the softness in her eyes betrayed her. 

You chuckled lightly, “I always am,” you concluded, pulling the cloak up over your head. 

[notquitecanon]

Insufferably Admirable // Astarion x Reader

Summary: After a restful day turns into a bloody night, your unspoken yet painfully obvious dedication to Astarion has put you in what should be a harder choice. Once Astarion realizes just how far you'd go for him, he has to begin to confront the feelings and realizations he's been ignoring for a while. OR that time You figured out the most effective way to heal a vampire and Astarion got emotional about it

Set at the end of Act 1, but not quite act two. Pre-confession but it's obvious they have some sort of feelings for each other

TW: canon typical violence, blood & blood drinking(obvi this is an Astarion fic), no use of Tav or (Y/N), one use of technical self harm (c*tting) but not in a self mutilation way??, mentions of manipulation obvi, reader might be a little too willing to help (totally not be projecting what???)

this is my first time writing anything for Astarion after hyper fixating on him for a month so please be gentle. I know it's a bit all over the place. (yes I could have completely left out the first half, but there isn't much actual dialogue in the second half and I like to put this guy in situations)

"Remind me again why you insisted on coming with me? I figured you’d be ripe for a day to lay around camp and let us do all the heavy lifting." You grumbled, scanning the crowded streets for a merchant. The goal was simple: get to the nearest village, sell off the extra weight, use the gold to stock the necessary supplies, and whatever the gold couldn’t buy… well, acquire it by any means necessary. No matter your path, through the shadows or the Underdark, you'd need to be prepared.

Gale had gone to pilfer for useful scrolls and maybe an enchanted item to snack on. Lae’zel and Shadowheart to a blacksmith for specialty arrows, useful armor, and any other weapons that caught their eyes. Karlach had carried the two trunks and barrel of items you had collected from your adventure thus far, finding you a wheelbarrow before heading back to camp to help Wyll with his preparations. Halsin… had taken his wild form and disappeared into the forest. Originally, you had intended to do your tasks alone, until- 

"My dear, I’m always ripe for a lay." Astarion twisted your words with a smirk, easily dodging the hand that reached to swat his chest. With a short laugh, he answered your question, his theatrics only increasing to more you argued, "To begin with, Someone- my fabulous self- had to make sure you didn’t get the whole group wrapped up in another laundry list of side quests- who knows what trouble you could have found if you were left all by your lonesome? A gnoll den? A kraken in the pond?  an old woman’s wagon with a broken wheel? a kitten up a tree? An orphanage with a leaky roof? Another cult for us to dismantle? Another temple to drop on me? Where would it end? You’re incapable of turning people away, it’s one of your insufferably admirable qualities."

"It’s called being kind, you dramatic elf." You grumbled, not prepared for the in depth analysis of your character. Trying not to focus so much on the fact he’d called something about you admirable.

"Second, knowing you, you’d sell all this off and still manage to come back to camp with them full. Honestly, pet, how have you managed to collect this much junk? You don’t even have a bag of holding." Astarion scoffed, using a single pale finger to peek under the lid of the barrel. It was just barely containing the countless daggers, goblin bows, pairs of leather armors, and dusty sandals. Your cheeks burned hot- maybe you had a habit of being overzealous in how eagerly you pilfered through all the crates you came across, checking bodies for anything valuable, and demanding the vampire to pick every locked chest the party uncovered. Hells only knew the thrill you got when you would find a buried chest.

"You never know when you might need something!" You reasoned, but swatted him away to hastily shut the barrel before the contents could spill out. It had taken you the better part of the night to pack it full of all the things your companions had convinced you to get rid of. The pale elf rolled his eyes, brushing past you so gracefully you didn’t feel his fingers in your pocket. 

"Really, my sweet? When, pray tell, might we need the collection of rusty necklaces you’ve amassed." Astarion held the bronze and silver necklaces up to the light, the red and blue stones sparkling despite the rust. His voice always like velvet, ruby eyes alight with teasing, "Far be it from me to criminalize accessorizing, but that darling neck of yours is tempting enough already." 

"Astarion!" You cringed, hearing your voice almost whine. Damn him for having that effect, so you cleared your throat as you snatched the jewelry back, "They are useful when we can sell them for gold." 

Astarion, having gotten the reaction he wanted, let you shove the necklaces back in a pocket before glaring at him, though it didn’t hold much actual malice, "Well, come on then, let’s sell the sandals for all the riches the village has to offer us." 

—

An afternoon later, you were smiling smugly as you watched Astarion grumble. Between all the goods and six different merchants, you were leaving with an additional 9,000 in gold, not to mention the additional 3,000 Astarion had managed to pickpocket while you bartered, and the items the two of you had managed to swipe. You felt particularly vindicated as he complained about the weight of the coins in his pack. 

"I’ll buy you something pretty in Baldur’s Gate." You cooed teasingly, to ‘appease’ him. Astarion spared you a deadpan glance before standing to leave, only making you giggle all the more, "Let’s get back to camp."

Astarion caught your eyes once more, scowl softening out at the sight of your bright smile. He was just about to say something sickeningly sweet and perhaps more than a touch vulgar when his eyes flitted up to something, pointed ears twitching at something you couldn’t quite hear. Until you could. 

The door of the jeweler you had swindled burst open, a strangled voice shrieking, "THIEVES! SOMEONE CATCH THEM!" 

Astarion must have been rubbing off on you, because for a moment you tried to feign confusion, looking around for the ‘culprits’ as if the dwarf wasn’t pointing directly at you.  Not that it did much good as several passerbys began to circle around the two of you. 

"Everyone’s so touchy about their personal belongings these days." The rogue scoffed.  Astarion grabbed your wrist and tugged you to him, so that your back was pressed to his and no one could sneak up on you. In his other hand, a dagger had already appeared. 

You sighed in defeat, taking your bow off your back, "No killing." 

"No promises." 

Compared to the goblin camp or fighting through the githyanki creche, disarming and incapacitating untrained townspeople and barely trained guards  was barely a warm up. Still, Astarion never left your side, an increasingly common occurrence when you found yourself in tight situations. Together, it didn’t take long to put distance between yourselves and your attackers, managing to get far enough to escape to the fight. Deflecting one last blow as the two of you passed by an open tavern, you incapacitated a rather pitiful guard with a blunt thunk from the pommel of your dagger. Taking one relieved breath, you tried not to focus too much of the trail of bleeding, unconscious bodies you and the rogue had left behind in your escape attempt. 

"Best we stick to the shadows before we attract more attention." Astarion mused with a cruel smirk, grabbing your sleeve and using it to wipe the blood off the corner of his mouth, his fangs glinting in the afternoon sun. The rogue only chuckled at your curses, giving some inane quip about the crime of dirtying his ensemble and how blood someone always looked better on you, "Now, believe what I said about you finding trouble? Back to camp before you find more." 

Before you could wrench your arm back or remind him that he was the only who got caught stealing, he pulled you off the main road into the alley adjacent- unaware of the attention that had already been attracted from inside the tavern. 

____

Ambushed in the night.  

A whole hunting party of Gur hunters. Willing to purge your party as they slept. 

And they were calling Astarion the monster. Fortunately, Scratch was an excellent guard dog. Waking the entire camp when the hunters tried to creep where you slept. Just as fortunately, there wasn’t a soul in camp that didn’t sleep without at least a dagger under their pillow. 

Your camp had become a bloodbath in the dim glow of the campfire. You had used the book you had fallen asleep reading as an improvised weapon, throwing it so hard it broke the first hunter’s nose. Lae’zel was single handedly mowing through three hunter with her long sword. Spells and incantations sent flashes of light from Gale and Shadowheart’s part of camp, and fire and brimstone lit up Karlach’s. There was yelling and cursing echoing in the cool night air, orders to take the vampire spawn alive and to kill the rest. 

And Astarion? Their target? 

He was where he always was during a fight these days. Right beside you, like a pale, snarky shadow. He had been the one to press your sword into your hand so you’d have more than just your dagger.  With him, you slashed and sliced anything that came near. Until the bastard appeared out of no where, squeezing in between you and the rogue. You would have applauded (more likely cursed) the near perfect use of an invisibility charm- had it not been for the poison-dipped stake raised against Astarion. 

This hunter was different, you could see it in his eyes. They were somehow devoid of life and yet also simmering with rage as they trained on your snow haired companion. This hunter didn’t plan to take Astarion back to Baldur’s Gate, not alive at least. He didn’t care about whatever orders they had, or what consequences would come for disobeying them. He only cared about driving the stake into Astarion’s heart. 

Astarion’s eyes went wide as well at the sight of the stake, realizing as you did that this was no longer just a kidnapping, it would be an assassination. Your thundering heart stuttered, blood going supernova in your veins before freezing to ice as your mind whirled through a hundred different possibilities and also went blank. Your own opponent, along with years of learned strategy, were instantly forgotten as blind instinct took over.  Every ounce of strength and speed you had was directed into a desperate lunge. In your desperation, you really weren’t sure if your goal was to tackle the hunter, grab his arm, tackle Astarion, or maybe even take the stake to your chest instead- you decided to choose along the way, as long as it ended with Astarion alive(ish) and well.

You managed to close the distance, one hand planted firmly to Astarion’s chest shoving him further and the other clamping onto the leather of the hunter’s gauntlet, the same arm poising the stake. With a feral sounding shriek, you pushed his arm so his aim was off. At the same time, your original opponent, frustrated at being forgotten, cast a wave of thunder that sent all three of you flying. 

Astarion, the Gur, and you flew backwards a good fifteen feet, the thunder shaking you to your very bones and splitting your ears. The breath was knocked out of you so hard you thought your poor lungs might collapse and you weren’t able to tell if it was the spell or the impact that did it. You didn’t have time to contemplate, the moment you were able, you scrambled onto your knees. With the same feral tenacity from earlier, you grabbed the hunter by the front of his leather armor, nails leaving scarily deep tracks as you hauled him off your vampiric companion.  With your new opponent, you rolled both your bodies until you were on top of him, knee to his chest. Seeing the look in your eyes, the rage left his own, pure survival instinct taking over. You didn’t even feel the sting of the slicing blow across your shoulder, too consumed with a singular mission. It was Astarion’s dagger you had snatched from the ground on the way that delivered the quick death blow. Halsin, in bear form, had appeared out of the tree line and took care of your other thunderous hunter, taking a defensive position around you and Astarion with a goading roar. You expected to hear something from Astarion- a snarky comment about your lack of technique, a snide remark about his assailant, or even just a stream of petty curses- but he was silent. You turned back to him, only to have dread flood every cell in your body. 

Nothing else mattered anymore, not the fight, not your injuries, and especially not your forgotten original hunter. Halsin, in bear form, had appeared out of the tree line and took care of your other thunderous hunter, taking a defensive position around you and Astarion with a goading roar. You barely noticed.

The moment you’d disposed of Astarion’s assailant, you were scrambling back towards the rogue, who was laying all too still. At first, you hesitated to even touch him as if that might make it worse. You called his name once, and then again when you were able to gingerly lay hands on him- one hand to his chest and the other pushing some curls out of his eyes. The stake, what should have been an almost useless weapon against anyone else, was still buried in his chest, piercing his favorite frilled collar shirt. 

"No… Astarion-" Your voice was breaking, thick and raw. Your eyes couldn’t rip away from the stake, protruding from his chest, the poison staining the white linen of his shirt a sickly green. The hand on his chest balled into a fist, bunching the unsoiled fabric in your grip, but something caught your attention. The tiniest candle light of hope in the rapidly encroaching darkness of grief. 

Your hand was directly over his undead heart. Anytime you touched him, your hand always fell directly over his heart. When you teasingly swatted at his chest, when you needed to steady yourself against him, when you needed to catch you balance… you always sought out his heart- subconsciously, instinctually, always his heart. Your hand was over his heart, and that gods-damned stake was four inches to the right. A tiny light, but a light none the less. It was then you realized you were calling the wrong name. 

"SHADOWHEART!" 

None of your companions had ever heard your voice that desperate, that scared.  All their heads snapped to where they had last seen you, finding Astarion pulled to your chest as you wrenched the stake out of the spawn. Astarion stirred only long enough the let our a gurgling shout that fizzled into a groan at the pain, and you could only hope he heard your soft apologies before you started barraging the vampire with healing cantrips. You didn’t stop until the words held no more magic, your supply of magic tapped for the night. 

The night air had changed, no longer fueled by adrenaline and challenge, now it was thick with urgency and fear. Each of your companions starting fighting towards the two of you, and when you locked watery eyes with Shadowheart you found her clearing her path with her spear. She had stopped using magic to fight, saving it all for Astarion.

"I’m coming! Hold on!" She promised as Karlach fell in beside her, battle axe taking over and sending two hunters to the grave together. Scratch and the owlbear cub had taking a lesson from Halsin and formed up beside you, growling into the night with hackles raised and feathers ruffled. 

"Just hold on, Astarion." You relayed to the vampire, who was completely limp against you his back to your chest, head tilted back against your shoulder which bared his neck to you, showing the fang marks on his pale skin. If you were capable of humor, you would have laughed about the reversal of roles, it was usually you baring your veins to him. But at the moment, his lack of movement wasn’t particularly amusing, so instead you laced his fingers through yours, hoping the warmth would bring him some comfort.  You pressed your cheek against his white curls, using your other hand to brandish his dagger just incase anyone got too close, and whispered all the reasons he was going to be okay. And that’s how you stayed until camp quietened and Shadowheart slid to a stop in front of you. 

___

Hours later, Shadowheart had used every healing and restoration spell she knew, not stopping even when she began to sway and sweat. Halsin had offered his magic and healing herbs, Karlach made sure there was always a bucket of hot water and a stack of clean rags available, and you hadn’t missed Gale trying to hide the scroll of reviving from you as he slipped it to Shadowheart.  Everyone in camp had been quick to gather all the healing potions, depositing them at the entrance of Astarion’s tent. Wyll and Lae’zell had slipped into the tree line to make sure the ambush was well and truly taken care of.  

And you? Their appointed ‘fearless’ leader? You had gone uncharacteristically silent. Your heart hadn’t left your throat, clenching painfully every time they jostled the rogue. Your hands were shaking too much, both from fear and white hot rage, to really help the two more experienced healers of the group. And the thought of being too far from Astarion made your stomach turn, so you kept rooted like a tree. But, you were grateful, truly, for all of them. Even if in the moment, all you could do was sit beside Astarion and pray to any God or Devil that would listen. You felt like a wild animal in a cage and a helpless child at the same time, your insides very well might vibrate out of the body if you didn’t melt into the soil first. 

The vampire needed all the help he could get. Aside from the occasional heartbreaking groan of pain or agony driven writhing, Astarion was eerily still. Barely breathing, less so than usual. His already pale, chilled skin had taken on a stony complexion, almost gray. And despite the inability to run a fever, there was a sheen of sweat over his face, clammy and uncomfortable. You hadn’t allowed them to undress him all the way, but part his shirt had been cut away to reveal the stab wound. It was deep, weeping Astarion’s already dark blood, and stretching out from the injury were black, twisting varicose veins that afforded you the cruel visual of the poison spreading. You wanted to take Gale’s revival scroll, use it on the hunter, and revoke the kindness of your mercifully quick death.  

"It’s like the effect of our magic is being dampened." Shadowheart huffed, hands glowing as she cast another restoration spell. The sweat on Astarion’s brow subsided briefly before returning. Halsin nodded beside her, taking a deep sniff of the stake. 

"His lack of blood isn’t moving the potions or antidote through his body fast enough, and this poison isn’t doing any favors." The druid thought aloud, taking some of his herbs to make a paste, "It doesn’t matter how many we pour down his throat if his body can’t absorb them." 

Shadowheart’s worried gaze flickered to you for a moment, before settling back on Halsin, "We’ll figure something out." 

You knew she was saying that more for your benefit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the pity. Instead, your grip tightened on Astarion’s hand as you swiped a clean rag to dab at his face. There was one more round of healing incantations and one more bottle of healing potion nursed into Astarion’s mouth. Your jaw twitched, watching most of it fall from the corner of his mouth. The same trail your own blood usually made after he fed. 

"I’m tapped." Shadowheart sighed almost ruefully, the glow around her flickering and then fading, falling back on her heels. Halsin stood, stooped slightly in the low ceiling of the tent, turning to you. 

"We’ve done everything we can do. We’ll try again with fresh minds in the morning. For now the best he, and we, can do is rest." His voice was calming, as if he thought you might start screaming again, but you just nodded, muttering something along the lines of thanks for trying, and not meeting either of their eyes as they ducked out of the tent.  

Since you had belligerently refused any of their magical attempts to heal your shoulder, Gale had done a rather pitiful job of wrapping it, taking some pointers from Karlach along the way. The wizard offered you a tight smile and a gentle hand on your uninjured shoulder before pressing a bottle of healing potion into your hand, "This one is for you. You’re no good to him if you bleed out all over the floor of his tent. We all know how Astarion feels about waste." 

"Yeah- fancy boy will be starving when he wakes up." Karlach’s chipper voice was still laced with a sting of concern. The tiefling didn’t touch you for fear of burning you, but did leave you with some roasted meat and a carafe of water from earlier in the night, "And it wouldn’t hurt for you to eat something either, soldier." 

Then you were left alone with your thoughts, hunched next to Astarion’s side, tired eyes examining the bottle after confirming the rise and fall of his chest. In your hand, the potion glowed slightly with the subtlest warmth, the scarlet liquid seeming to have a mind of its own as it swirled in glittering patterns behind the glass. Your injuries were meager, this little bottle of healing would have you as good as new. Bitterly, you flicked your eyes to the numerous empty potion bottles in the corner that had barely slowed Astarion’s bleeding. Your hand closed around it as you cast another look to the Vampire spawn beside you. His breaths were shaky and shallow even after Shadowheart and Halsin had exhausted every last bit of magic they'd had. Now in the quietest parts of the night, or maybe the darkest hours of the morning, your thoughts swirled, desperate for any sort of plan to latch onto. You had to do something. 

For you, Gale had said, No good to him if you bled out… He’d be starving, Karlach had been joking, His lack of blood wasn’t moving the potions enough to be effective, that had been Halsin’s hypothesis.

Blood. He needed blood.

The revelation was like being dropped into a freezing lake, determination razing the fearful lethargy out of your soul. With your teeth, you pried the cork out and downed the first circular bottle, the overly sweet taste a stark contrast to the somber mood of the night. For good measure, you did the same with a potion of superior healing and two bottles of general poison antidote, slamming them down so fast you had to ignore the churning in your stomach. You’d loot twenty more goblin caves to make up for the dent in supplies if you had to, in that moment you just didn’t care. You waited a moment, begging the powers that be for your ragtag plan to work, not so patiently watching the bruises on your wrist until they started to fade.

You felt it, the moment that you had been completely healed and there was no where else for that magic to go. And then, you wrapped your arms under Astarion’s, heaving him against your chest. You bared your neck, letting gravity gently swing Astarion's nose to meet your pulse point, his silvery lashes tickling your jaw. He stirred slightly, groaning at the movement, pressing himself into your warmth before stilling again. Was he too far gone to realize what was being offered? 

Realizing you’d need to play into his vampiric insticts, you huffed, shattering one of the empty vials against a stone, struggling to do so and keep his deadweight in place. Taking a shard, it wasn’t hesitation but a moment of stilling your shaking hand before you pressed a shallow cut to your neck, right above where his lips rested.

You hissed at the haphazard sting, not as gentle as the pinprick of his fangs were in the night, feeling the blood instantly pool at the seam, a single red ribbon dripping before the potion healed the scratch, "C’mon, Astarion-" 

The moment his name left your lips, or maybe it was the moment a drop of your blood hit his, regardless you could feel his instinct, that sanguine hunger, take over. The soft lips at your neck were replaced with dagger sharp fangs digging into where the small cut had been. The sound you let out was somewhere between a gasp of pain and sob of relief as you barred him against yourself, fists clutching into the back of his shirt like it would keep both of you rooted to each other. Somewhere, in the back on your mind, you thought about the irony of the position, being so afraid to let him slip away, like a rabbit latching onto a snake for fear of the serpent starving. Even if it meant being consumed. 

In that moment, you were so relieved he’d started feeding that you didn’t care that his fangs dug in deeper than they ever had before, much more animalistic than his usual polite nibble. You didn’t dare flinch or wince, in case that might break the spell. Instead, you focussed keeping the both of you upright, one of your arms wrapped under his own, your fingers splayed across his ribs, and your other hand cupping the nape of his neck. The angle had his silvery curls dusting your fingertips and your thumb caressing the sharpest part of his jaw. Never had you been so happy to feel that throbbing numbness in your neck. Astarion’s chin prodded further into your neck, deepening the hold he had, and with his own shaky breath, he swallowed the first mouthful of your blood. 

The hand at his ribs clenched, pulling him impossibly closer and twisting his shirt into your grip again as your pulse began to speed up. The increase of your heart rate only seemed to encourage the vampire, teeth sinking ever deeper to draw more blood flow. Clenching your jaw, you forced your muscles not to tense, it would only make it hurt more. This mouthful was quicker, Astarion seemed to be actively drawing it out of you instead of just waiting for it. He swallowed again, gaining the strength to snake his arms around you. It wasn’t a strong hold at first, but one arm snaked around your waist while the other cradled the back of your head, those long fingers finding their usual place in the locks of your hair. You couldn’t help the short laugh that escaped, relishing the cool touch. Your voice stoked another fire in him, provoking another instinct, your blood provided the strength for his grip to harden, becoming more cage like. As if he needed to worry about you trying to escape. 

He swallowed again, and the numbness spread, not just in your neck but into your cheeks and across your chest. Blood was racing, coursing through you and into him, and with it all the magic of the healing potions. You could feel him getting his legs underneath him, untangling himself from you. At the same time, it was getting harder to hold your arm up, the numbness had reached your fingertips leaving them fumbling at his curls before falling to his shoulder. Another long drink and you found your eyes starting to flutter, everything was starting to feel cold as a shiver shook your body. Astarion, against two centuries of vampiric instinct, started to pull back, and you didn’t stop him, but didn’t let him go far either. He was mostly supporting himself now, which was a relief because a fair bit of focus was freshly delegated to preventing yourself from swaying. 

"Take all you need, ’Stari-" You meant for your voice to be assuring and strong, but it came out breathy and slightly slurred. Astarion pulled away, the movement bringing you mostly out of your stupor. His ruby eyes were as sharp as ever once again, even if the shadows under his eyes were still too dark for your liking, and they stared into your own half lidded eyes. Other than the deep purple shadows, the ashen complex had started to even out, the sweat on his brow had faded away, and when you dropped your gaze, you noticed the twisting black veins were starting to recede and fade. Hells, you could get up and dance (very briefly before you passed out).

Even, with a foot in the grave, more dead than usual, and covered in both of your bloods he was unfairly beautiful. His eyes narrowed on your dopey smile, as if he your relief was a symptom of too much blood loss. If that was the effect of four swallows, just a little more would flush out the poison completely, "I can take it, love, just please let me help you." 

Astarion never considered himself to be someone that had to be coaxed into receiving a gift, and you were offering him one so sweetly, practically begging him. After 200 years of rats and spiders, you had put literal magic in your veins for him. Magic that was bringing him back from death to his usual state of undead. He could feel it bringing his strength back, allowing all the magic the cleric and druid had poured into him to finally take some affect. Your blood, his first thinking blood, was always delicious- sweet and metallic, a delicate blend of all the good tastes, something so intrinsically you. With the potions infused, though, if Astarion was to hazard guess what sunlight tasted like- this would be it. How could he refuse? 

Before he went back in, he placed a reverent kiss to the marks he had left in your neck, gingerly lapping at the wounds before sinking his fangs back into your tender flesh. This time, it wasn’t a gasp or sob, but a mewl, your frigid fingers once again digging into the flounced collar his shirt. If you both lived until morning, you were sure he’d gripe for hours about all the wrinkles you’d put in his favorite (only) shirt. Probably throw a proper fit about the stake hole.

Now, as the potions effects dwindled in your own body, you could properly feel the drain. The coldness crept up from your extremities but didn’t counteract the burn in your muscles, making it harder and harder to suppress the shivers. Your breathing was quick almost a pant, but you still felt like you weren't getting any oxygen. If you were thinking rationally, if you hadn’t gone through the brief grief of thinking you’d lost him, you would have realized you need to push him away, that you were approaching your limit. But you weren’t thinking rationally, no. You still were too busy grinning- as your hand had fallen from his collar, it grazed across the wound, now fully closed. Just a little more, you promised yourself. You felt him swallow more, he held himself up completely on his own allowing you to lean into him. 

Astarion was okay, more than just on the mend, he was alive and strong, the potions and magic were working, were the thoughts that were reverberating through your head as things started to feel farther away. Your desperation had melted away, leaving a grateful smile in its wake. It wasn’t completely on purpose, but you let Astarion take on more and more of your weight, barely aware of his fangs in your neck anymore, not quite hearing Scratch and the cub whining outside, the shivering even began to subside as it seemed to take too much energy. 

Earlier, you had drug him to you and held him against your chest almost crying. But, as more of your blood flowed through him, it had become juxtaposed. Astarion held you in place, leaning over you for the best angle at your neck. It was his arms that kept you from falling over, his firm hand that kept your head from lolling too far back. His bite became less fervent, his grip less cage like and more affectionate. His survival instincts started to give way to civility and charm. You barely noticed as he twisted himself so he could slowly, gently lay you down onto the bedroll that had moments ago been his sickbed. He laid you on your back, onto the generous stack of pillows he kept in his tent. He tangled his fingers into yours, just as you had done for him, his knees holding him in a predatory crawl over you, all without breaking from your neck. 

Barely registering the softness, it was the thud of your other hand against the floor that roused you, just a bit. It was also what drew Astarion’s attention, it took everything in him to withdraw his fangs. He gave each puncture would a diligent cleaning with his tongue before pulling away completely, lest he lose control and dive right back in. (Really, how could one person be that tempting?)

But, you had arguably saved his life, it’d be terribly impolite of him to kill you. When Astarion’s eyes met yours, your gaze was more than half lidded as you watched him- what little of your eyes he could see were glossy and fighting to stay focused, he could hear your heartbeat markedly fainter than he was comfortable with. 

You were watching him as intently as you could. In the dim lantern light of his tent, surrounded by potion bottles and bloody rags, Astarion was up and moving and breathing again. Revived and strong, his eyes practically glowing scarlet, and, if you really focussed, you could make out the tips of his ears becoming pink. Something that only happened when he was freshly well fed, nothing was left of his stab wound but the hole in his shirt, the frayed edges dyed from the poison and his blood. He could have looked like a angel, complete with the fire’s reflection creating a halo effect on his snowy curls, had it not been for the sheen of sticky blood drenching his chin and neck. Your blood- the blood that gave him enough strength to heal. How could you not smile? 

Astarion tried to come up with a snarky comment, but for once, nothing came to mind. Instead, he kept glancing between your intertwined fingers, glassy eyes, and that idiotic little smile. Your giddiness was beginning to unnerve him, had you been charmed or perhaps taken a hit to the head? With the parasite, he reached out briefly into your mind. His brow twitched when he was only met with waves of relief and gratitude, you were too tired for structured thought, but too relieved to give into the exhaustion. How could someone on the verge on exsanguination look so happy? And why in the nine hells did it seem to be directed towards his well being? 

The vampire was stricken, taking count of everything you’d truly done that night alone: fought beside him, tried to take the death blow in his place, comforted him, held his hand, cleaned him up, hadn’t let the others undress him anymore than necessary, stayed with him, circumvented his vampirism to find a way to heal him, and had genuinely tried to bleed yourself dry for him. Hell, you’d cut your own neck for him- not even metaphorically, but literally cut your throat for him. He could feel your warmth, your kindness and everything good about you settling into his very marrow. Something uncomfortably… gooey… stirred in his chest, something more and more worrying common as of late, when it came to you. Had his manipulation really worked so well? A feeling too close to sharp guilt gnawed at that warm gooey feeling. Was it really manipulation anymore? Gods, your morality was infecting him.  

“This is that Insufferabe admirability I was talking about ." He muttered into the tent, shaking his head as he watched your chest rise and fall, using his free hand tame some of the hair at your crown. It was then Astarion realized your eyes had slipped shut, your fingers, now just as cold as his, going limp against his. Weeks ago, he would have polished off the last of your blood and left you behind. But at present, he felt the sickening need to return even half the care you’d shown him. He’d have to dissect his emotions later. The rogue was glad the other companions had left supplies within arms reach, as it meant he could gather them without dropping your hand. 

"Ah, ah, ah," He called quietly, gently pulling you back to the real world, pleased to watch your scrunch your nose in the exertion of waking back up. Finally, that contented little smile on your face slipped into a frown, a protest against his interruption of your sleep. Astarion’s smile was almost apologetic as he helped you into a slightly more upright position, "Not quite yet, little love. It’s your turn. No sharing this time."

Another healing potion was pressed into your hand and opened for you, and you allowed Astarion to guide it to your lips, his pale hand guiding your own. This time, the warmth of the elixir was welcome, a comfort instead of a taunt, assurance instead of a plea. Astarion carefully watched you as you swallowed the potion down, noting how you shivered less and a bit of color returned to your face. When the potion bottle was empty, he traded it for a small cup of water, keeping a guiding hand on the silver chalice he’d nicked from a tradesmen weeks ago until you had enough strength to hold it. 

Though still exhausted and dizzy, you had the energy to throw him an obstinate look. Astarion feigned a dramatic sigh but kept a firm enough grip on you that you couldn’t lay back down, "All this for me, yet you won’t even let me give you water?"

Ignoring how it made the dizziness worse, you rolled your eyes, taking a few sips of the water at a time even if it was mostly just so he’d let you lay back down. Astarion was in one piece and you were exhausted, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about anything else. But, Astarion seemed very pleased with himself, squeezing your hand once again, "Good girl." 

If you weren’t on the verge of blood loss, you could have choked on the water. Still, there was a part of you that whispered in relief he must be better if he’s back to teasing you. Astarion watched you take a few more sips before you sagged back against the pillows. Your eyes closed again, but your breathing was deeper now and the hand he held didn’t feel as cold. Outside, Scratch and the cub seemed appeased at your improvement as they stopped their pacing and whining to settle at the tent flap.

This time, he didn’t pull you back up, instead muttering to himself as he gently tilted your head to the side, exposing his bite marks. No wonder you seemed so tired, they were much messier than usual. Vicious, was the better word. Not only had his two fangs pierced your delicate skin, but his bottom canine teeth had punctured through as well, and he could see the outline of his other teeth in the deep bruising grooves they had left behind. In unfortunate addition, it seemed in the height of his blood lust he’d made more than one bite, leaving your neck littered in marks. Astarion grimaced, it really was more of a mauling, “Apologies, darling, I’m not typically so brutish. Forgive me?" 

Astarion pointedly ignored how his heart lifted at the slightest nod you gave him, instead focussing on cleaning you up as gently as possible. The potion had stopped the bleeding, and he watched as the wounds themselves were slowly closing. Each swipe of the rag was feather light, almost not even there. The elf noticed you give back into sleep, this time not bothering to wake you again. Instead he kept working and fussing until the only sign of his feeding was the stained neckline of your shirt. Then, he gently ran a clean, wet rag over your face and hands, taking away the evidence of your tears and worry. Finally, he threw a cloak over you like a blanket, to hopefully ward off the last of the shivers from the warmth he’d stolen from you. 

Not stolen, he reminded himself, though the truth somehow felt more dangerous, it was freely given to him. The vampire settled in, laying across from you, the only part of you he could touch was the hand still holding his. Though, already in your sleep you had shifted towards him. Astarion frowned, eyebrows furrowed, the more he came to know you, the more he knew that you would give and give and give. Truly, he knew that he didn’t need to manipulate you anymore, maybe he never needed to, and for the first time in centuries, he didn’t want to just keep taking. He didn’t want to bleed you dry and loot you for all you were worth. Astarion was surprised to find he wanted give something back to you. He just needed to figure out what.

The nights events caught up to him once again as his eyes closed, listening to the evermore familiar sound of your heartbeat as it became steadier and the even sounds of your breathing as you slept, letting it guide him towards meditation. 

Gods damn you and your insufferable admirability.

___

Part Two Here!

Again this was my first time writing for Astarion. I also tried to balance things into being equal parts in each persons perspective. I just love when two lovestruck idiots have to confront their own feelings about being in love.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Broke His Heart Cause He Was Nice

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: the games are over now and Peeta finds out your relationship was all an act

Masterlist

It was the day you were finally set to arrive back home in District 12 after completing your victory tour for winning the games. You’d been anxiously waiting for this day and wanting nothing more than to trade the makeup and tight dresses for your boots and own bed. The train was running late, ironic considering how fast it was, and you were too anxious to sit still. You noticed a pathway near the train platform and longed to be alone with your thoughts in nature.

“I’m gonna take a walk while we wait for the train.” You announced. Effie sighed and shut her compact mirror before looking at you.

“I suppose that’s all right. But don’t go too far. We board in 15 minutes.” She reminded you. You nodded and started to walk away when Peeta stood up.

“Can I come with you?” He asked. You gulped and forced a smile before nodding your head.

“Always.” You told him. He smiled back and walked beside you as you headed down the walkway together. Your hand bumped against Peeta’s as you looked up at the trees around you. As soon as he slipped his hand into yours, you felt tremendous guilt fill your stomach. You were yet to address the nature of your relationship now that the games were over. You had blurred the lines so much between faking a relationship for the camera and navigating your true feelings for Peeta that you had no idea where you stood now. Peeta saw the uneasy look on your face and let go of your hand to walk ahead. He picked some flowers for you and handed you the bouquet he had arranged.

“For you.” He blushed as he presented them to you.

“Oh.” You smiled in surprise. “Thank you.”

Peeta returned the smile before continuing to walk down the pathway. You watched him as he walked, feeling like the distance between you was matching the distance you felt inside.

“I can’t believe we’re actually going to be back in District 12 tomorrow. I really didn’t think we’d ever see it again.” Peeta said as he continued to stroll along the flowerbeds.

“Neither did I.” You admitted, making Peeta stop. He turned around and looked at you for a long time, making you uncomfortable in the silence.

“What do we do once we get back?” He asked as he earnestly stared into your eyes. He looked just as lost as you were and you wished you could give him some answers.

“I guess we try to forget.” You answered, making Peeta’s eyes soften.

“I don’t want to forget.” He said quietly. You stared into his eyes as you guilt built up and up until it threatened to spill out your throat. Before you could say anything more, you heard a voice behind you.

“Hey. There you two are.” Haymitch said as he approached. “You guys should be proud of yourselves. I’ve seen a lot of victory tours but I haven’t heard crowds cheer like that in years. You really sold the whole star-crossed lovers who survived with the power of love thing. Especially you, sweetheart. Keep it up exactly the way you were playing it.”

“Thanks.” You said immediately as your entire face burned in embarrassment. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Peeta’s look of confusion. Haymitch had no idea what he had just done and was too drunk to realize it. He patted your shoulder with a drunken smile and stumbled back to the train.

“What’s he talking about?” Peeta asked as soon as you were alone. You opened your mouth to answer him but found yourself speechless. You knew this moment would come eventually, you just didn’t think it’d happen before you even got a chance to go home.

“What was he talking about? What are you keeping up?” Peeta asked again when you took too long to answer. You looked into Peeta’s eyes and stumbled over a few broken sentences as tears filled your eyes. You didn’t even know why you were crying, you just felt full of emotion over the fact that you knew Peeta’s world was about to shatter. You had grown an immense fondness, even love, for him since the start of all of this and you knew he was about to hate you. Before you could confess the truth, Peeta put it all together. He took a step back from you as his hand went over his mouth.

“Oh my God. It was all an act, wasn’t it?”

Peeta whispered. “The way you behaved in the games wasn’t real. Waking me up with kisses, feeding me, hugging me so tight I could barely breathe. You were just pretending, weren’t you? You did it all for the cameras.”

“Not all of it. Some things were real.” You promised him. “But Haymitch and I knew that if I played up the romance, we’d get more sponsees. And it worked. We did.”

“You and Haymitch had a plan? And you didn’t tell me?” Peeta shouted. He was usually so soft spoken that hearing him yell made you stumbled back in surprise.

“We never officially made a plan.” You tried to explain. “But after I kissed you and we were sent food, I realized that Haymitch was telling me that that’s what we had to do to get sponsors. So I kept doing it. And we kept getting sponsors.”

“I should’ve known.” Peeta shook his head. “I should’ve known you didn’t just happen to fall in love with me.”

“Peeta.” You said tearily as you watched his heart break. You knew he’d be upset, but this was harder than you thought.

“I knew it was too good to be true. You never actually felt the things I felt. You were just playing a part.” Peter said quietly as he wiped his eyes.

“You’re the one who started the romance plot anyway, remember? Why are you mad that I kept it up?” You folded your arms, angry now that he wasn’t seeing your side of things.

“Because I didn’t know there was something to keep up. I didn’t know you and Haymitch had a secret plan behind my back. I was just dumb enough to believe I could actually trust you. How stupid am I?”

“You’re not stupid, Peeta. And you can trust me. You have to understand that I wanted to tell you about it but I couldn’t. There were cameras everywhere. If I told you, everyone watching would’ve known it wasn’t real. I had to keep the illusion. And that meant keeping it a secret from you too.”

“Wasn’t real.” Peeta laughed sadly. “Illusion?”

Your anger subsided for a moment when you heard the pain in his voice. Your choice of words had just thrown salt in his wounds. You stopped trying to win the argument for a moment and realized that you had a right to be angry, but so did he. You walked over to him and cupped his face to make him look at you.

“Peeta, there were so many times I wanted to draw the curtains closed and block the rest of the world out and just be with you. I swear, I did. But we didn’t have that choice. If things were different and we had gotten together in a normal situation, maybe I’d know where my feelings lie. But I don’t, Peeta. I’m sorry.”

“I thought things were going to be different now. I thought something good had come out of the games.” Peeta said as he stared at the ground.

“Things are different.” You insisted.

“Yeah. They definitely are.” Peeta wiped his face and turned away from you so you couldn’t see him cry.

“How can you be mad at me for this? We were strangers before the game. I wasn’t thinking about romance. I was thinking about saving our lives.”

“I know that. In my heart, I know that. I just can’t get it through my head yet. God, I can’t believe you were acting.” Peeta said and stressfully tugged at his hair.

“I know this is upsetting to hear but I wasn’t trying to deceive you. I thought you were acting too.” You protested. “I assumed you knew we had to play up the romance for sponsors and that’s why you kept kissing me and saying the things you did.”

“No. I didn’t know. I was never pretending.” Peeta snapped, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise. He was never one to be quick to anger, so it surprised you that you were having such a hard time getting him to calm down.

“Putting on the act got us both out, okay? There is no other circumstance where we would’ve both come out alive. This was the only way.”

“I know that. I’m sorry. I just wish I knew sooner.” Peeta sighed and sat down on the ground. You looked at him for a minute before looking around and behind you. You wished there was someone, anyone, to tell you what to do in this situation. You wish you had a script or some cards form Effie telling you what to say. Peeta was just sitting on the ground, staring into space, and you had no idea how to bring him back. No one had ever been mad at you in this way before and you didn’t know what to do. Realizing no one was coming to help, you walked over and sat beside Peeta. You could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry but it wasn’t exactly working in his favor. He turned his face away from you and he quietly sniffled.

“If there was a way I could’ve told you, I would’ve.” You said as you placed a hand on his back. Peeta nodded his head and wiped his face before giving you a sad smile.

“I believe you.” He said. You returned the sad smile and rubbed small circles on his back. Peeta stared off into space again while you stared at him. You let silence sit between you for a long time until you broke it.

“Were you really never pretending?” You asked quietly. You saw his mouth tug into a slight smile as he shook his head.

“Never. I meant every word I said.” Peeta said, sounding almost proud. You smiled a little when you thought of all the kind things he had said about you in the cave and how you now knew they were true.

“How much was fake for you?” Peeta asked, breaking you out of your thoughts. He was looking at you now with those puppy dog eyes of his and it made you feel ten times worse.

“I don’t know, Peeta.” You sighed. “I don’t remember every little detail.”

“I do. What about our first kiss? Real or not real?” He asked with a certain desperation in his voice. You cracked a smile in surprise and looked at him.

“Real. I couldn’t bear listening to you talk about dying, so I kissed you to shut you up.” You told him, making him smile as his face turned red.

“I have a feeling you’re forgiving me.” You chuckled and pointed at him, making his smile drop.

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat. “The kisses when you got the broth the first time. Real or not real.”

“Not real. I’m not really the type to wake someone up with kisses.” You said sheepishly.

“I guess I always kind of knew that about you.” Peeta admitted. “What else was fake?”

“When I asked you about your crush on me when we were in the cave. I was trying to get us to have some kind of grand emotional moment because the kisses weren’t cutting it anymore. I needed to go bigger.” You admitted.

“Oh.” Peeta’s face fell. “You didn’t really want to know?”

“I really wanted food.” You confessed. “And I honestly thought you made that story up because you were hungry too. Did your dad really want to marry my mom?”

“Yeah. And he’s not thrilled I told that story, by the way. Apparently it was really quiet in the bakery that night.” Peeta said, making you genuinely laugh for the first time in a while. Peeta couldn’t help but smile when he heard you laughing but wasn’t done with the questions.

“When you said I didn’t have any competition, real or not real?” Peeta asked a a he looked into your eyes.

“That was real.” You replied, and you meant it.

“What about Gale?” Peeta asked, sounding like he didn’t believe you. You looked Peeta up and down

“He’s not your competition.” You laughed like it was silly, making Peeta smile.

“He’s not?” He asked hopefully.

“He’s basically family. I think if something were to ever happen between us, it would’ve happened already.”

“Hm. Good to know.” Peeta blushed and looked away again.

“Any other questions?” You asked him. “I really do want to make it up to you. I’ll answer anything you want.”

“When you said I walk too loud…” Peeta asked and trailed off.

“Real. Very real. You were so loud I wanted to kill you.”

“We could’ve avoided all this if you had.” Peeta muttered, making you laugh again. Peeta laughed as well and looked at you for a moment.

“Did you try as hard as you did to save my life for the romance plot?” He asked quietly as if fearful of the answer.

“No.” You said immediately. “I did what I did because I couldn’t handle the thought of you dying. I still can’t. I almost broke a steel door down when they separated us after we won. You were the only thing on my mind. That was the moment for me when I realized I wasn’t acting all that much. I love you deeply, Peeta. I know that for certain. I’m just not really sure what kind of love that is yet.”

Peeta looked into your eyes for a while and eventually, he seemed to be satisfied with your response. You knew he understood where you were coming from even if it hurt him to know the truth.

“I’m sure what my love is.” He said after a beat of silence. It wasn’t reproachful, more like a passing thought. He knew what he wanted and he wanted you to know it too.

“Could you wait for me? Until I figure it out?”

“I will.” Peeta nodded, making you smile on relief. He smiled too and the faintest blush crept over his cheeks. He looked out into the distance for a minute and a comfortable silence settled between you. He then turned to you and leaned in for a long, slow kiss. Just in case it was his last time for a while getting to do such a thing. It was your first kiss without a single camera present and you felt that familiar hunger sensation in your chest that left you wanting more. When he pulled away, you wanted him to do it again.

“Are you any closer to figuring it out?” He asked completely serious, making you laugh. You stared into his eyes and truly could not imagine your life without him.

“You know what?” You cracked a smile. “Yeah. I am.”

Tag list 🏷️

@sarcasm-and-stiles

[soulaires]

aaron warner family headcanons

The Warner Family.

pairings: dad!aaron warner x mom!reader

summary: get to know more about the warner family!

warnings: fluff, domestic, ooc, domestic shenanigans, protective aaron warner …

🪩:: voicemail ; read my other aaron warner fics here.

Aaron found out about it when he heard some crying in the bathroom at the middle of the night, noticing your lack of presence beside him, he got worried and walk towards the bathroom.

There, he saw you, in front of a mirror having a breakdown.

He approached you and asked whats wrong.

“love?” he said softly, as he hugged you from behind and caressed your hair, “My love, whats wrong?” he asked you worriedly.

“aaron..” you trailed off as you continue to sob. He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead , pulling away as he make you look at him, “what is it, angel? You can tell me.” he urged you.

“I’m pregnant.” you blurt out.

With the lack of reply, you panicked.

“I missed my period recently and I feel kinda shit lately so me juliette and nazeera bought an pregnancy test earlier and I tested all 7 of them and they are all positive, I don’t—”

As you were rambling, he quickly hugged you tightly and lifting you up to the ground as he span you around. You laugh softly at this gesture as he peppered kisses to your face and hair while he whispered sweet nothings.

“Its okay. We will be okay. Don’t worry. We got this, yeah? I love you. Thank you. Thank you, I love you so much, My love.”

at the first stage he got nervous about being a dad and have some self doubt but later got over it as he saw you patying your belly despite it still not visible.

he got more protective over you and never ever let you do things.

you guys told your friends by a guess the word game. They all cried.

He bought a book about being a dad and take notes on pregnancy books to help you out.

Baby proofs the every part of the house immediately.

He went to every appointment with you

He never ever made you feel guilty for your cravings.

Oh you want a food from a store hours away? Just wait.

A hellspawn food combination that you want? He will eat it with you.

Massage? Done.

A food from a different country? He ordered his men to get it ASAP.

Want some sweets especially made by your husband even though you have never tasted his baking? He learned how to bake immediately!

You guys did an gender reveal in the most fun way.

You did it as both kenji and juliette worn a baby costume with 'boy' written in the blue bib for juliette while 'girl' in a pink bib for kenji

They both FIGHT to determine who wins to know the gender

They even go overboard as they jumped into the swimming pool racing each other to the finish line

Kenji won.

So, its a girl!

You guys decorated her room immediately

You did ALOOOTTTT of shopping!!!!!

Your husband just spoils you rotten as you keep buying cute toys, plushies, and pretty cute clothes!!!

“my love, don't you think its a bit too much?” “I am sure the little princess do not need that much clothes, honey.”

he gave up as soon as he saw some cute baby clothes + a matching one.

When you guys did a baby shower its so emotional like omg you guys are gonna be parents!

You and Aaron planted a tree so it grows with baby dior!

teenager!dior safe place is the tree, she goes there to lay down, read and to relax when stresses!

Your friends wrote letters for dior to read when she reached the age 7, 11, 13, 15, 16, 18, 20, 21 and 22!

You and aaron made her a gmail account as you guys constantly wrote her some letters and random things there for her to read in the future

When you went into the labor he desperately wished to take away your pain and was crying with you. He comforted you as he cares your hair and gives you kisses.

“shh, its okay, baby. Im here. Im not going anywhere. ”

“you got this, my love. You are doing so well.”

“Aaron! I can't do this—”

“yes, yes you can, darling.”

He really can't bare to see you in so much pain even though he had seen so much worse

He was very gentle and was crying when he held your baby girl in his hands. His princess, his girls, his universe.

After the labour, you were barely allowed to do things in the house, he only let you rest while he take cares with everything.

You guys had an 3 months lockdown, not allowing anyone to visit the baby

Always keeping an eye for baby monitors

You and him do an rock, paper scissors when it comes to changing baby Dior diapers (he lets you win, sometimes.)

Dior have your eyes so he is a victim to those puppy dog eyes. He can't say no to you, what more to his princess especially with your eyes?

Learns to do her hair!!

Dior first words is not 'momma' or 'dada' it was Kenny. Kenny. You and aaron felt betrayed.

Despite with the nickname, kenji teared up and always paraded the moment (to your husband dismay) he grows to adore the nickname when she keep calling him that

He sometimes forget that he played dress up with baby di so sometimes he go to work with tiara, ribbons, those princess accessories on him.

“Refrain from laughing, there is nothing funny about this matter.” “uh...theres something on you, sir.” “oh.”

Sometimes they were to scared to point it out

Kenji, nazeera and juliette made fun of him not until they were a victim of the dress up

At one point, kenji kidnapped baby dior and was later banned from seeing her for 2 months (barely a month in dior throwed a tantrum wanting to see her uncle kenny)

Baby dior played with your make up when she misses you! She wanna look like you because she misses you so much

Dior is an nature girlie! Aaron believes his angel is a reincarnated of persephone/artemis

Baby dior wears her pants backwards. She believes that “tails” should be at the back. You and Aaron gave up on the fight.

You guys had an motto that if its not hurting anyone or themselves, don't fight it. Let them.

One time you guys thought she was playing phone call but turns out she was in an hour real call with james.

Seashells hunting !!!!!

Everytime you guys went to a beach aaron always buy a big beautiful seashell then hides it in the sand for her to find!!! And her reactions always makes you and him melt!!

he also buries some treasure chests

He made an contract of no boyfriend until shes 30 and made baby dior sign with her prints with paints. He framed it.

You scold him for that and he just shrugs lol

teenage!dior have you in her closefriend and private insta!!

she collects shells and glue them to a cardboard and gifts it to you!

She wants a sibling so one day she just go “I want a baby sister or brother 🥺”

Keeps wishing on a well for it

Aaron is 100% in he just goes “Princess, ask mommy :)” “me too, baby. Let’s just ask momma for it, hm?”

Well, let’s just say she always get what she wants…

authors note: I had fun doing this Omg I wanna make it a series, do you guys want it? Please let me know!!! Feedbacks and reactions are very much appreciated!!!

(Aaron Warner) tag list 🏷 : @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan

If you want to be added to my A.W tag list plz let me know in my inbox ! 💌

[mochie85]

I'll Follow You

One Shot Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: You came back to the compound, a year later after you left to make your own career, and you are worried about meeting Loki with how things ended when you left. Pairing: Romantic!Loki x OC Female Reader (Foxglove is her Superhero alias.) Word Count: Over 5.3k Warnings: Explicit. Fluff. Angst. Smut. Oral (female receiving). Shadowplay. Hallucinations.

Loki flipped through the magazine at a hurried pace, not looking at the photos or any of the articles. His hands needed something tactile to do. Or else, he feared, he might choke someone with them.

He paused when he saw an advertisement for a watch you were modeling for. There you were—a close-up of your beautiful face. Your eyes were bright and round. Your lips were dewy and sensual. Norns, he missed those lips. Especially when they were wrapped around his…

Ugh. Why can’t I stop thinking of her?! Loki snarled under his breath as he threw the magazine halfway across the room. It landed on the floor right by Sam’s feet. “You dropped this!” Sam said picking it up from the floor. He held it up in the air, not even looking, his attention fully absorbed on the TV screen.

Everyone had gathered to watch the talk show you were appearing on tonight. They couldn’t wait to see you come out and gossip about your life or inconsequential things. The entire team supported you in your decision to leave and start your acting career—everyone, except him.

Loki wanted to leave the room. He should’ve left and not agreed to come and watch the show with the others. He was about to stand up when-

“Shh. Shh. Guys quiet down. Here she is!” Wanda said shushing the entire room.  Loki watched the enormous television, enraptured. The camera panned over to the audience, their loud applause and cheers were deafening. Signs and pictures were held up from a time when you were an Avenger. He couldn’t help but sink further into his chair and get caught up with your grace once again.

“So, Foxglove- can I still call you Foxglove?” The host asked as you sat down.

“Of course, you can,” you beamed at the man behind the desk.

“I- I don’t know the protocol for these things. Do you get to keep the name even though you’re not an Avenger anymore?”

Your practiced laugh showed through your gritted teeth. “It doesn’t work exactly like that. Foxglove is the name I gave myself. I had it with me when I started with the Avengers and took it with me when I left. It wasn’t a title or anything.”

“And did they just let you leave? I would think it was like being in the mafia. ‘You know too many of our secrets. We can’t let you out alive!’ sorta thing,” the host said, thinking he was being clever.

“My friends and colleagues have all been supportive. And I remain in close contact with most of them.”

‘Most of them.’ That statement swirled the emotions Loki was feeling inside. He was not one of those who supported you and was very vocal about it. The fact that you still keep in contact with almost everyone here left him envious.

“And that’s actually part of the reason why I’m here tonight,” you continued. “My dear friend Tony, whom many of you know as Ironman- again, not a title…” you chuckled. “…Is throwing his annual charity gala this spring. This year he decided to make it a month-long occasion with different charities and events happening once a week culminating in the yearly gala at the end of the month.”

“That’s wonderful! That’s all he does when he’s not out saving the world, is party, huh?” the host said looking straight into the camera.

“Asshole!” Tony sassed under his breath, earning a few chuckles from the team.

“And what exactly is your part in this month-long event?” The host asked you.

“Well, I plan to raise money for The Nature Conservancy here in New York. I ask everyone to come and help us plant new trees or donate. Every dollar will be matched, and we can help restore some of the forests, in other parts of the country.”

“The Nature Conservancy is a special organization for you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s where I first worked. It’s where I first started noticing my powers.”

“Your powers are amazing! You can talk to plants!”

“Well, it’s a lot more complicated than that,” you said with restraint. “Chlorokinesis allows me to excel a plant’s growth to a thousand times what they normally can. I can also enhance their natural defenses and abilities. And like my namesake, Foxglove, I can give you hallucinations when touched.”

“Can we get a demonstration?” the host asked to the cheers of his audience. You reached out to touch him “No, no, no!” he said nervously. “I don’t need any more hallucinations right now!” you both chuckled. “Thank you. But maybe you can make a flower grow?” he suggested, and the audience cheered you on.

“Sure, of course,” you smiled, happily. You rotated your wrists and flicked them around, gesturing for a plant to grow from the host’s wooden desk. The branches wrapped around itself forming a steady trunk. Soon the branches grew out further and further. Blooming wisterias in varying colors began to sprout, amazing the audience.

You used to be unstoppable. You used to tear down enemies left and right, numbing them with your visions before you cut them down and made them regret opposing you. Now you do party tricks for the camera so you can get a laugh from people who don’t care about you. Who didn’t even love you! Loki was furious.

Once again, Loki made to get up. He was almost through the exit of the room when he heard the next question that made him stop.

“So, Foxglove, will you be attending these events alone?” The audience ‘ooh’d’ at the question when the host decided to get a little more personal. “I heard you were cozying up to a certain superhero. Do you like those types? Do you have a type? What does Foxglove look for in a partner?”

You laughed embarrassedly. “These rumors! I swear they pair me up with someone new each week.”

“Oh, but you were seen leaving a nightclub with your costar, Superman himself, Henry Cavil.” The photo was put up on the screen. A picture of the two of you laughing in front of a busy club as Henry gingerly put his arm around your shoulders. The entire room of Avengers whooped and hollered cheering you on.

“We were celebrating. We had just wrapped our movie and it was my first time in London. So, Henry just wanted to show me around. Very friendly. All platonic.” You smiled, blushing. Loki noted that blush. I’ll break him like a twig!

“Ok. Ok. What about your former colleague, Loki of Asgard?” The host asked as a picture of the two of you replaced the one on the screen.

It was a photo taken when the two of you had gotten back from a mission. You had failed and cried about it on the flight back. Loki was wiping the tears from your face, trying to cheer you up. You didn’t know the PR department was there taking shots as all of you disembarked off the jet.

The camera cut back to you and you blushed harder. Once again, Loki noted that blush. He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding and swallowed. Does she miss me too?

“Loki and I have remained good friends. I look forward to seeing him again,” you told the host.

Lies. Not a single word was exchanged between the two of you since you left. The last words you said to him were “I hate you! I never want to see you again!” Loki couldn’t detect any falsehood when you screamed those words at him. That hurt the most.

Everyone turned to where Loki was standing. Some, like Thor, were smiling. Mostly everyone else was shocked.

“What?!” Loki snapped back at them, making everyone turn back to the television.

“Oh! Did you hear that? She wants to see him again.” The host embarrassed you. Your powers grew erratic as a new sprout of branches grew from the tree.

The whole audience was eating it up, clapping. You tried to hide behind your hand, but the different cameras provided different angles of your mortification.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Foxglove, everybody!” The host said pointing towards you clapping. You laughed and waved at the audience as Wisteria petals fell from the ceiling.

Weeks later, you sat in the back of a Maybach that Tony hired to chauffer you to the gala. This year it would be held at the compound which garnered more donations because everyone wanted to see inside the heavily guarded facility. Your intricate beaded dress fit you snuggly and covered you from shoulders to toe. It ensured that no one would accidentally come in contact with your skin. Especially with how crowded Tony’s parties got. The only wrinkle was from all the times you’ve grabbed it in anxiousness and wrung the fabric.

Why did I let Tony talk me into this?! I should’ve faked sick or something! What if Loki’s there? Of course, he’s there. Where else would he be? What if he doesn’t want to see me again? What if he has a date?! Maybe I should’ve invited Henry? No, no. He’d get the wrong idea. Just drop in, say your hellos, then leave. I don’t have to stay. I’m a grown adult. I can do what I want! FUCK! What if Loki comes and talks to me?

Once past the gates, the car crawled through a winding road with lanterns adorning the pathway. The car stopped at the front steps of the Avenger’s compound and you could hear the heavy bass of the music pounding through the car windows as bright lights and lasers littered the night sky.

You made your way through security to the massive, yet highly decorated, quinjet hangar and a sweeping staircase that descended to an impressive room below. You smiled, reminiscing about all the parties and events you attended as an Avenger- sweet memories that erased the worry you had when you were in the car. Picking up your gown, you gracefully descended the staircase. Keeping your eyes trained on the steps below, you tried not to look around, to look for him.

“Fox! I can’t believe you’re here!” Wanda shrieked as she ran up to you. She squeezed your sleeved arm and pressed her cheek on your shoulder.

“I’ve missed you, Wanda!” you said kissing the top of her hair.

“Come on. Everyone’s here- well, almost everyone,” she corrected herself. “We haven’t seen you in so long. Everyone wants to catch up.” She led you along to the bar where you were greeted by your former teammates. You were grateful that Loki wasn’t among them. He always loved these parties. You actively refused invites the past year just to avoid him. Awkward hugs and pleasantries were shared. Drinks were offered along with your first few dances promised to Sam and Wanda.

After hours of conversations with the team, and some drinks with Tony, you fell back into a sense of belonging and family. You didn’t realize how much you missed your friends here. How much you missed being an Avenger. It got so lonely most nights not having anyone to talk to. At least here, you would have had Nat or Bucky to train with in the middle of the night.

Or Loki to keep you company.

You groaned internally. You couldn’t help but be on edge all night, thinking about him and wondering if Loki was ever going to show up.

Before leaving for the night, you excused yourself to get some fresh air. There was a greenhouse in the back glades of the compound that you frequented most nights just to be alone. You used to make the hedges grow all around, giving you a private garden away from the rest of the world.

Inside, it was as if you had never left. The plants stood tall as if to greet you. Bright flowers bloomed in different colors as if in competition to win your adoration. And in the back corner, hidden behind large monstera plants, was a cove of plush blankets and chairs that you hid from anyone ever finding. Everyone except, “Loki?”

Loki sat in the rattan chair; his legs crossed reading a magazine with your picture on the cover. He looked as breathtaking as the first time you saw him, like trouble and a promise all wrapped up in his pressed monochromatic black suit. His mischievous smile appeared, tempting you closer.

“Hello, Foxglove,” he greeted you. His voice sending shivers down your spine. Fight or flight? Fight or flight? You kept repeating in your head.

“I…didn’t know this spot was taken. I won’t bother you. Goodnight,” you hastily said as you turned to leave.

“Wait!” he cried standing up. You could feel him grab hold of your wrist. You looked down to see his shadow holding on to you like a dear friend, shadow to skin. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched. It’s been so hard to be intimate with anyone because of your body’s defense mechanism. And here was Loki, the only man who figured out a loophole to your little enigma.

“I just wanted to say…” Loki paused, staring only into your eyes. “Y-you look beautiful tonight.” You pulled your hand away from his shadow and stayed quiet. “I saw you. We… the team… saw you on the talk show. You’ve done amazing things this past year. One movie, a television show, countless endorsements.”

“Still don’t think I can make it?” you challenged.

“Fox, it was never about that!” he argued. His sudden outburst propelled him like a predator. He stalked his way closer to you, making you back into the glass wall of the greenhouse. You caught whiffs of his cologne mixed with the tropical scent of the flowers all around you. He stopped when he realized he had alarmed you. “I should not have advanced on you so quickly. I apologize.”

“It’s all right. Just habit, I guess.” You were always conscious of people touching you and getting too close. You never wanted to be the cause of their hallucinations. Loki felt relieved that he hadn’t scared you off. His shadow stood ahead of him, rubbing your arm with the back of his fingertips, trying to mollify your anxiousness.

Loki watched and waited as you settled. Jealousy festered in his body at the sight of his shadow being able to comfort you and he couldn’t. “You look… breathtaking, by the way.” He tried to soothe.

“You already said that,” you said curtly, blushing. Loki loved your blush. He loved getting under your skin and teasing you.

“Is your new lover here with you tonight? Got sick of the real superheroes, had to get yourself a pretend one?” he tried deflecting. Loki smirked looking through the glass and out to the party to see if he could spot Cavill.

“As I recall, you wanted nothing to do with me once I stepped foot out of your room,” you said quoting him from the last time you spoke. “So, it’s none of your business whether or not Henry and I are together.”

“But you are…together?” he asked. His stare was unwavering, demanding an answer to his desperate question.

“I don’t need this right now!” You were angry and speechless. He doesn’t have the right to question your life’s choices especially when he wanted no part of them in the first place.

You moved to get away from his shadow’s hold and out of the greenhouse. Loki followed you close. “Fox, please. Stop.”

“Why are you even here, Loki?” you called back, briskly walking towards the exit. “You knew this was- This was my spot. MY SPOT!” you yelled, turning abruptly towards him.

“Because I wanted a chance to talk to you in private! Without the cameras or the paparazzi. Without some life-or-death mission hanging over our heads. I needed to see your face again, without all these people trying to steal your attention away from me.” He stopped and watched you reach for the door to go outside. “I’m sorry, Vixen.”

Vixen.

Feelings you thought you had buried deep down inside of you started to resurface. All because of that name he used. The one he would whisper as he called for you in his arms late at night. The name he used when he made you laugh so hard the only way to stop you was to kiss you.

The one name he knew would stop you in your tracks… because it was the one name he used when he was about to touch you himself.

“I am sorry if I ever made you feel…”

“Unworthy? Incapable? Useless?!” you turned as you accused him.

“Unwanted,” he finished.

Real tears fell down your face now. Loki cupped your cheek and wiped it away with his thumb. You could feel the heat in his touch. The energy. You’ve felt it with his shadow, but there was always something electrifying and passionate when Loki touched you himself.

It was a luxury to feel this connection with someone. To feel the warmth from his fingers. The callouses in his palms. You imagined feeling his soft lips on you once again until you stopped yourself. It was a dangerous path to have such expectations right now. You opened your teary eyes to find Loki watching you.

His eyes darted around to your surroundings before he closed them and tried to focus back on you. “You are very much wanted, Vixen. I just couldn’t admit to myself how much I wanted you back then.”

He opened his eyes to yours. The swirl of emotion in them was breathtaking. It was then that you saw his true face for the first time. His emotions. His thoughts. He was stripped of his armor and his pretenses. You felt as if you two were the only thing that existed in that time and space. As if he were holding his life, right there cupped in between his hands.

Your heart pounded in your ears as he continued his confession. “I am a jealous god. You know this. I didn’t want to share you with anybody. I wanted to keep you to myself. To keep you from the world. I was afraid that you would tire of me like you did with being an Avenger. Cast me out after seeing what the world out there could offer you.”

Loki placed his forehead to yours, feeling your breath on his lips. He bared it all for you tonight. He admitted something you knew was difficult for him to confess.

But could it erase what he made you feel for wanting to follow your dreams? Horrible and selfish. Untalented. Unwanted.

“I love you.” Your eyes grew wide at his expression. “I loved you then. I’ve loved you since. I am still deeply in love with you. Even now, when you’re about to run away from me, my heart won’t let me forget you. I was afraid that I would have no place in the world that you were creating for yourself. So, for that, I am sorry.” You closed your eyes and lingered in his touch a while longer.

“I wanted to apologize. I never got a chance to see you again after our fight, and I regret that I never made amends to you. You had every right to follow your path. I shouldn’t have stopped you. I should’ve supported you.” His thumb caressed your cheeks back and forth. You always did have the softest skin, unblemished by anyone else’s touch, he thought.  “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to say anything at all. And if you want to leave now, I won’t stop you. Never again. But I just needed you to know how I felt.”

Do you love him? You asked yourself as you looked into his variegated eyes. Did you spend every night thinking about him? Did you ignore the compound, and your friends, this past year just to avoid seeing him again? Afraid that he would have someone new in his life? Did you miss his voice when he says your name? His kisses? His touch?

“Yes,” you answered yourself. Loki’s brows knitted in confusion. “Loki, I understand now. Thank you… what I said to you back then, I was angry, but...” you tried to start.

Loki smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead. “We were both angry and said things we didn’t mean. Me more than you. Please don’t apologize. Least of all to me.” He exhaled as his eyes darted around again. You nodded your head, accepting his grace- forgiving you without having to apologize.

You looked up at his eyes, filled with wonder, “What do you see? When you touch me?” you asked gently. All this time you never thought to ask him.

“I see what I always see. Since the very first time I touched you. Do you remember?” You shook your head no. “They showed a picture of it on the talk show.” Realization sunk in. “I was wiping your tears just like now.”

Loki looked around again and smiled, putting his hands in his pockets. “I see home. I see the woods that used to grow behind the castle walls. Thor and I used to sneak out when we were children and climb the trees. The same woods we used as hunting grounds when we got older. Would you like to see it?”

No one had ever asked you that before.  No one had ever had the power to do that before! You nodded and faint green smoke rose from his fingers. Your vision got blurry as the greenhouse was replaced by a dense forest. The trees were tall and luscious. Strands of warm light filtered through the canopy above shining down on the emerald grass below.

“Come with me.” Loki held your hand as he walked further into the woods. Dead leaves and twigs crunched at your feet as a soft breeze blew through the lace of your dress giving you goosebumps. “There’s a glade up ahead where we can just lay on the grass. I used to spend my free time there, letting the hours idle away.” The thought made you smile.

Sure enough, a clearing began to form up ahead. Long, soft grass weaved itself as it grew amongst large wildflowers. The filtered light from the canopy above made the blooms shine like jewels on a bed of velvet.

“I have yet to see anywhere comparable to this place on Midgard,” Loki said circling the glade, a look of homesickness in his eyes. “That metropolis has nothing compared to the splendor of these woods.”

“It’s beautiful.” You said walking towards him. A path of small wildflowers blooming with every step you made.

“Thank you. It is beautiful. But still an illusion. We are still very much in the greenhouse by the compound. You’re just seeing what I’m seeing at the moment.” You reached out towards a tree and felt cold glass instead of bark.

“You see this every time you’ve touched me? Every time we’ve…”

“Hmm,” Loki nodded solemnly. “Sometimes it's these woods. Other times it's my bedchambers in the palace. Yet, every time I’m with you, I see this- my childhood home. I haven’t been back since you left.” Loki bent down and picked up a wildflower that had grown in your stride. “I try to conjure it myself, but it never feels the same. The colors aren’t as vibrant. Not as much warmth.” He placed the flower on your ear, pushing your stray hair back. His hands ventured further down, tracing the beads of your sleeves.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted.

“You’ve missed me? Or you’ve missed my powers and that they can bring you home?” you asked slightly jilted.

Loki looked deeply into your eyes as he turned you into his embrace. Your hands fell onto his arms and the look he gave you stole your breath away. “You are my home,” he confessed with a passion and honesty you’ve never heard from him before.  

He wasted no time. He gave you no warning as he conceded to his urges and kissed you fervidly. The soft lips you were fantasizing about earlier painted a poor picture of his actual kiss. Soft yet demanding. Giving, yet always ravenous. It was as if no time had passed between you two. You were back in his arms kissing him and it felt like he described it. Home.

“All I ever wanted was to have you here in my arms,” he breathed in between kisses. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him back to you for another kiss. His arms wrapped selfishly around you, holding you tighter to him.

The heat was too much. It’s been so long since you’ve been held so intimately. But with Loki’s lips devoted to your neck, you would burn gladly. You would die happily on this pyre- as the last thing you would hear would be Loki moaning in your ears.

You were lost in his haze, caught up in the moment with the feel of his body against yours. He pushed you against the tree and you felt the cold glass of the greenhouse against your back.

Loki towered over you, “Tell me you want this,” he whispered onto your noxious skin. “Tell me you’ve missed this and want this with me.” He looked into your eyes, imploring something deep and vulnerable inside you.

“I do, Loki. I want this with you” You moaned holding tight against his grip. You felt his hands gather your dress skirt. Slowly his hands wandered, savoring the feel of your soft skin. His hallucinations were getting more and more vivid. Believable. Or perhaps it was just his kiss, sending you into slight delirium yourself.

Loki hurriedly took off his suit jacket and flung it across the room. He knelt in front of you, in between your parted legs as he raised your left knee above his shoulders- kissing his way up to your inner thighs. “Loki is this real?” you asked looking around you.

“Gods, I hope so,” he prayed, leaving a mark on your thigh. He kissed his way up to your core and licked you through the fabric of your panties. You heard the sheer cotton tear as his fingers brushed up against your eager clit.

Your fingers ran through his hair, pulling when he licked a wide stripe in between your folds. Your knees buckled at the sensation and soon you were reaching around yourself for something to hold. Something to keep you up as Loki lost himself in your wet arousal.

The cold glass of the greenhouse was replaced by the feeling of something warm and sturdy behind you. You looked up to see that Loki’s shadow had positioned himself to where his chest was flushed against your back- his dark hands roaming your body. His arms reached forward to hold your dress up above your waist, aiding Loki in his endeavors.

You felt a kiss on your neck, a quick peck as if he was asking for permission or giving you a warning. You yelped as his shadow quickly lifted you by your hips and Loki pushed both your knees up for his shadow to hold.

“Loki!”

“Yes, my love?” he asked as he continued to latch his mouth and draw on your aching cunt. Loki’s shadow spread your legs. You were splayed open and exposed. Leaving Loki to devote his tongue to you. You reached up and ran your hands through his shadow's hair, pulling as he sweetly kissed your neck.  

You couldn’t help the moans and loud whimpers escaping your lips. You bucked your hips onto Loki’s face as your head reared back onto his shadow’s shoulders.

“Come for me, Fox. Let me hear you,” he commanded as he continued his consumption of you. “Let me taste you again. Give me what I’ve been missing. What I’ve been craving.” He said the last words to your tormented clit. You shuddered violently as moans and whimpers of his name fell from your lips. “That’s it. There you go, Vixen,” he cooed as he drank your arousal and lapped around your thighs.

His shadow laid you down gently and you felt the plush pillows and cold blankets from the greenhouse corner underneath you. A warring sensation against the heat of Loki’s body pressed on top of you. A bit of reality mixed in with the illusion Loki was scarcely hanging on to.

His hands fondled your every curve and every soft line. You cupped his face and led him to your kiss. His soft lips quivered when you reached in between your bodies and stroked his clothed erection. So hard and so tight. He breathed a sigh of relief when you unzipped his pants and stroked him.

“Fuck,” he moaned. Your name followed next as he bucked his hips into your hand. “Vixen…tell me you’re mine,” he panted. He kissed you hard, not letting you reply, afraid of your answer. You lined him up next to your expecting cunt and pulled him inside you.

You bit your lip and moaned as the look of pure pleasure radiated through your face. “Tell me…” he tried again as he pushed his hips into you repeatedly.

“I love you, Loki,” you moaned. His eyebrows slanted skeptically, stilling his movements and letting your words sink into his thoughts. “I’ve always been yours.” You admitted.

His kiss was magic. It was passion and life. Remorse and reconciliation all at once. He began his movements again at a steady pace, savoring your tight walls around him. You could feel the ridges on his shaft with every euphoric pull and thrust. His head bowed at the sheer power of your declaration. “Say it again…” he whispered.

“I’m yours,” you moaned.

“…say it…” he bit his lips. “…ag-again…please…” His eyes were closed as he focused on the agonizingly drawn-out movements of his hips to yours.

“I love you, Loki,” you cried as he slammed against you. You squeezed around him finally pushing him off that edge. Loosening the tight hold he had on his pleasure and pouring it all into you. The wave of bliss hit you hard and you came onto his throbbing cock at the same time.  

Spent and panting next to you, Loki held you close. His kisses were endless. Your cheeks and jaw would be bruised tomorrow from the affection he was showering you with. His hands were always touching you. Your neck, your face. Your thigh that was wrapped around his legs. You lost all track of time being with the god of mischief and soon the bright sunlight that trickled down to the forest floor was replaced by the harsh glare of the greenhouse overhead lamp.

Loki had little strength left to keep the illusion up any longer. He seemed weary but content. You kissed him fleetingly as you sat up back to reality. “Stay,” he said softly. “The one thing I didn’t say last time…I’m saying it now. Don’t go. Stay.” His hands held yours tightly.

So many feelings were attached to that one word. The weight of it crushing your heart. “I’m not asking you to give up your life. I’m not asking you to stay just for the night either. I’m asking for you to just be,” he smiled at you. “Be who you want to be and I will support you like I should have.”

You crawled back to him, settling your head on your propped-up elbows, while your other hands played with the buttons on his shirt. “And if I decide to go?”

“Then I’ll do the one thing I should’ve done last time but didn’t.” he smiled as you looked at him expectantly. “I’ll follow you.”

A/N: This was a request sent in and I'm sorry to say it took this long for me to finish it. I hope you like it my lovely @gruftiela. I tried to stick to the vibe of the song. But I also added lyrics from one of my other favorite Depeche Mode songs. See if you can spot it 😝.

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish

[nctstar]

Can you write a smut w plot on Taeyong x sub!reader x Mark ? I am craving for this pair please bestie...you can take your time, no rush. make them a bit possessive and dom and you can add anything to your liking.

hiii friend! i know this is CRAZY late but i hope you still like it <3 turned out a bit more sad than expected HAHA

dumb conversations, we lose track of time

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He bent over to kiss you, bringing both of his icy hands to your face, but you didn’t care. The kiss was everything, and you brought your bodies over to the wall as you continued, one of his legs now in between yours. “Fuck, I think…I’m gonna miss you so bad.”

pairing: markyong x fem!reader (no markyong ship)

other members: other 127 members mentioned

word count: 3k

genre: romance & smut, angst, fluff, sort of hurt/comfort

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! mild profanity, mentions of being sick from food, kissing, dom!markyong, praise kink, degradation (use of slut/whore), daddy kink, slapping, penetrative sex, riding, oral (male receiving), manhandling/being held down/held in place, missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), crying (like lots of crying!!), subspace, double penetration (2 in 1), clitoral stimulation, taeyong is leaving for military service and this is upsetting to reader (strong self insert moment LMAO)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: NOW i know i was technically supposed to make this a (freaky) smut only...but i had to add the extra things because i have been sooo emotional lately and i have not really been in a smut mood unless it's emotional and loving :D with the release of the tortured poets department, taeyong's enlistment, renjun's hiatus...ya'll it's just been a lot. so a lot of this is very much just me projecting HAHA but hope it's comforting to some of you. also, i just wanna say that you guys shouldn't feel pressured to engage in sexual activity when you're sad and crying...everything here is consensual of COURSE as always, and this is all fantasy but i just thought I'd add that in. please take care of yourselves when you're vulnerable. love ya'll mwah <3

You stifled your giggles in the droop of your cardigan, but Taeyong still flushed red. Your cheeks puffed out as you fought the urge to snort in his face. “I’m so sorry.”

He rolled his eyes, instinctively going to run his hands through his now non-existent hair, making you double over in laughter. “Alright, miss, that’s enough. Hilarious, I know.”

“Noooo Taeyong, don’t be embarrassed.” You ran over, pinching his cheeks in your hands, feeling his skin hot and elastic under your thumbs. “You’re so cute. Like…Anpanman!”

“I know you love jjingppang, jagi, but that was so uncalled for.” You strung his arm into your body, letting the both of you walk away from the dim lights of the restaurant. “Why? Are you hungry? But didn’t you just eat?”

“There is always space for dessert, hon. Come on, we’ve been together 2 and a half years now, and you still don’t know my philosophies?” You were teasing, having fun, but as you watched another couple walk in front of you, hands gripped tightly together, the shadows in the trees dancing across their bodies, you felt something sharp poke inside you. You gulped the feeling down, forcing a smile, even though you knew he wasn’t watching.

“You’ll get sick if you eat too much bread again.” You shook your head, scoffing. “That was one time, Taeyong. And it was in Japan. I would definitely have eaten that much again.”

“Really? I recall you crying in the bathroom, whining to me about why I didn’t stop you.” You knocked him playfully, feeling his scent permeate your senses and bring you back to those times in Japan. He was here now, a solid body standing right next to you, brushing up against you, but…You felt a sudden rush of emotion, but you could see Mark’s car now, and you decided not to bring up what you had been thinking the entire time.

“So-“

“I’m sorry I’m leaving you.” The words surprised you, even though it was something both of you had been holding back the entire time. “I’m sorry I have to do this.”

“Don’t be silly.” You were standing in front of him now, the white streetlights illuminating every line on his face, too scared to look into his eyes. “You have to do it, right? And, you should be proud of yourself. It’s hard work you are willing to dedicate yourself to for a while. And, I can always take care of myself.”

“You have Mark.”

“No, I can take care of myself.” You nodded as if you were trying to convince yourself instead of just him. Your eyes watered, working against every restraint you had. “Please, just…it will be fine. I will still see you. Just, not as often. But you’ll still be here.” He held both your hands, bringing them to his chest, and you were looking at your shoes, watching them get blurrier, feeling him pull your body towards his.

You couldn’t do it. Not for the last time.

“Bye.” You let go of his hands, turning swiftly around and walking towards the parked car at a pace that seemed closer to running.

The warmth enveloped you, and you hastily rubbed off the tears, almost embarrassed at the thought of crying in front of him. Both of them. “H-hey, Mark.”

“You okay?” You nodded, and he brought your hand to his lips, lightly pecking it before he shifted gears.

∞

The apartment was quiet at first, as if it already sensed the loss of one tenant. “Just squeezing past, babe.” Mark’s shoulder brushed yours as the keys jangled in his fingers, his steps retreating towards the bathroom. You walked over to the couch, looking at the empty cake box, the one Doyoung had bought to celebrate. The cake crumbs that littered the floor, the frosting on the couch – you didn’t even have the heart to be mad.

“Is that frosting…on the couch?”

You chuckled weakly, sniffling. “Yeah. I thought I told Jungwoo not to make a mess.”

“You didn’t. You’re so quiet around the boys. So shy.” Mark’s breath tickled your neck, his lips grazing the skin hidden underneath your cardigan. He kissed you gently, bringing one hand to your shoulder, the one he had brushed. “It’s what I love about you.”

You smiled, watching Mark’s shadow cover you as he moved to sit next to you on the couch. “What a mess. This isn’t driving you crazy?” You shook your head, but you smiled, a little bit more genuine this time. Curling up next to Mark, you basked in the heat of his body. He pressed his nose to the top of your head, inhaling your scent. “You smell good.”

“You trying to get laid, Lee?” You felt his chest shake as he laughed, both a little awkwardly and without holding back, like he always did. You thought of all the times you fell asleep in his lap, feeling him stroke your body soothingly as you both waited for Taeyong to get home.

You sat up, turning, looking deep into Mark’s eyes. “I love you.” You kissed him, pulling his bottom lip with your mouth as you pulled away. He ran his hands up your back, connecting lips as you climbed onto his lap, so quick to bring your body against his. He held your hips in place when you stared to move, groaning softly as he pulled away from your mouth. “Are you sure?”

“What, am I sure I love you?”

“No, I mean,” he gasped shortly when you kissed his collarbone, a spot only you knew how to tease. “Easy, baby. I mean, are you okay with doing it tonight?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, and you hated yourself in that moment for ruining it all. Desperate to stop him from continuing, you shut him up with a kiss, moving his hands from your hips so you could grind against his growing bulge. Your fingers in his hair, you dug your knees on the couch so you could push your chest onto his face. He moaned this time, tugging at the ends of your hoodie to signal you to take it off. You hissed when the cold hit your bare torso, Mark unhooking your bra clasp as you shivered. “You cold, sweetheart?” You nodded, but you were sitting back onto his lap, both of you shrugging off your bottoms as you talked. The cold drew goosebumps on your skin, but you felt wet and hot in the pits of your stomach.

“Fuck, so tight.” Mark threw his head back as you cried out, feeling the stretch harder than you remembered. He held you in place with a hand on the small of your back, another on your thigh. “Shhh. Come closer to me. Good girl.” He continued praising you as you sunk deeper onto his length, inches buried inside you. “W-wait.” You pressed a hand to his stomach, warning him not to move as you scrunched your eyes shut. “So fucking big.” Mark laughed, moving your hand away and bringing your chest closer to his mouth. As he licked and nipped at your body, you began to relax, your breath quickening with every passing second. His dick jumped inside you, making you whimper. “You ready, sweet girl?”

You tasted the tears before you felt them, streaked down your face. “Please.” you begged, and he began to thrust up into you. “Fuck, Mark, M-Mark!” Your voice carried through the apartment as he rolled his hips into you. “Come on, baby, that’s it. You’re our good girl, right?” You sobbed, bringing one hand to your mouth to quieten yourself, but he pulled the hand away. “If you’re gonna cum, you better do it screaming my name. You understand?” He held your chin into place. “Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, p-please. Fuck,” You gasped, feeling the ripples of pleasure run through your body. “I’m close! Please, Mark, can I-“

“Yeah, good girl, baby. I’m close too.” His voice was raspy, his thrusts sloppy as he reached his own high. You shut your eyes, feeling your thighs constrict as you came. You breathed heavily, the tears still running down your face. When the ringing sound stopped post-orgasm, you heard yourself crying.

“Hey, hey. You did well, sweetheart. It’s okay, I’m right here.” You nodded, feeling your body slump against him. “Can I pull out? Does it hurt? I didn’t hurt you, right?”

You looked into his eyes, feeling the way he held you so securely in his arms. “I miss him. I miss the three of us. I know it’s silly, because it technically hasn’t happened yet, but,” you sighed. “I didn’t know how hard it would be until it really happened.”

Mark hummed in agreement, wiping away your tears. “Of course. That’s not silly. And, I love you too, okay? I’m here for you.” You wrapped your arms around his body, breathing in his scent, feeling Mark pull your hoodie around the both of you. “You never hurt me, Mark.”

∞

You both woke up with a jolt when the knocking started. You climbed off Mark as your eyes shot open, and the both of you started frantically dressing, as if the person had entered straight away. “Who’s coming over so late?” Mark grumbled.

“Hopefully Jungwoo to clean the couch.” You muttered, but Mark was rushing to open the door after peeking through the peephole, and you frowned.

“Hyung.”

You knew it was him. But you couldn’t even move. In that moment, you were frozen in time.

“Hi, jagi.” His body stood looming over yours, his face red from the cold outside. You didn’t know what to say, rubbing the itch on one of your ankles to kill time.

“You’re…you’re here.”

“Yeah. It’s my apartment too, right?” He smirked. “Why, is the Anpanman look enough to make you forget me?” You laughed, sniffling, hitting him lightly on the chest. You noticed Mark raise an eyebrow, left out of the inside joke. Your stomach churned, your heart pining for a loss that suddenly was not lost, and it all felt so out of place.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He bent over to kiss you, bringing both of his icy hands to your face, but you didn’t care. The kiss was everything, and you brought your bodies over to the wall as you continued, one of his legs now in between yours. “Fuck, I think…I’m gonna miss you so bad.”

“You’ll live.” You scoffed, pushing him away. He laughed, the smile lines on his face making your heart soar. “I don’t think I’m gonna miss these stupid jokes.”

He kissed your forehead. “I think you will.” You rolled your eyes, but he was right. As always. You ran a hand up his chest, then, underneath the hoodie he was wearing. You gasped in an exaggerated, ditsy way, making your voice airy on purpose. “Officer, I think you’re pretty hard right now.”

Taeyong smirked, his eyes darkening as he gripped the wrist of your wandering hand. “Oh yeah? You think you know me so well? Wanna play that game?” In the corner of your eye, you watched Mark’s figure step closer. “She already did, Hyung.” He pushed his tongue on the side of his cheek, and you fluttered your eyelashes at Taeyong, feigning innocence. “I didn’t do anything. He’s lying.”

“Oh?” Mark looked pissed, and you only giggled in response. Taeyong brought his face closer to yours. “If I find out you’ve been lying, you’re done for. Now, on your knees.” You complied, seconds later being met with Taeyong’s length springing out of his boxers. You covered his tip with your mouth, but you felt your hair being yanked backwards and a slap on your face. “Did I say anything yet? Dirty slut.” Mark’s grip on your hair didn’t falter, and you whined. “If you want to suck me so bad, you better be ready to beg for it.”

“Mmm, please. Please let me taste you, Daddy. Please, I’ll be good.” Mark’s other hand travelled under your chin, tilting your head up almost uncomfortably, making you yelp. “Tap him if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded in response, and as soon as you did, Mark’s thumb pressed hard on your bottom lip, prying your jaw open. Taeyong thrusted inside your open mouth, guttural groans leaving him as he did. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sudden intrusion, the apartment now filled with the sounds of you violently gagging on dick. Your fists clenched by your sides. “Pretty cockwhore, aren’t you?” Mark whistled lowly, making you squeeze your legs in embarrassment. “Ah, so you like being our nasty little thing. As expected.” You shook your head, but he only tightened his grip, laughing almost cruelly in response. Taeyong pulled out when he heard you choking, inhaling air as soon as his tip left your mouth. “Not so talkative now, are you, pretty?” Your voice raspy as you spoke, you opened your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out. “Daddy’s little whore, yeah?” You could only hum in response as Mark held you still, Taeyong jerking himself off on your tongue. You swallowed the cum in your mouth, letting some of it drool out of your mouth. Taeyong bent over, spreading it over your chin, mixed with your drool. “Go and bend over the couch.” You went to nod once more, but he slapped your face. “Words.”

“Y-yes, T-Taeyongie.” You only used that when you were floating away, letting yourself go, and to be honest, you were surprised it had happened so soon. As you bent over the couch, you had an inkling that they were surprised too. You felt Taeyong’s hands on your sides, and you jumped. “Sorry, jagi. Is this still okay?”

“Uh-huh.” You felt wetness pool in between your legs. “Please, f-fuck me. Before, what happened…well, Markie…I’m sorry I lied, Daddy.” You heard Taeyong shushing you. “I want you to enjoy yourself, beautiful. Okay? Tell me if this is too much.” You sighed, relaxing when you felt Taeyong rub up your back, pressing hard in the way that you liked. Under his hands, you felt safe. Calm. Honest.

“C-Can we go to the bedroom? I don’t like this position.”

Your body burned, even though your shared bedroom was freezing tonight. “Fuck, it’s cold in here.” Taeyong held you close to your body, as if he never wanted to let go.

As the three of you sat on the edge of the bed, you began to ugly cry. Taeyong rubbed your back as you shook, Mark taking a tissue to wipe your chin. “Was it too much? Baby?” You didn’t know who was speaking, but you held both their hands, unable to stop the tears from falling. “No, its just that,” you rubbed your face harshly, feeling the days makeup rub off on your hand. “This is all so fucking dumb. I’m sorry, but, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t care if that makes me a bad person.” Taeyong laughed as he held your head in both his hands, pulling you into his body. Mark ran his hands soothingly up your thighs. “I think I love this side of you, actually.”

You smiled, remembering your conversation only a while ago. “Sorry I’m ruining everything.”

“Sorry but, you must be fucking crazy if you think that’s true for even a second.” Unlocking yourself from Taeyong’s embrace, you exaggerate lifting your hands up in surrender. “Okay, relax, Mark. Don’t call a woman crazy.”

“Especially not a horny one.” You snorted at this, making both of them laugh. Sighing, you tried to appear mad or even annoyed. But you hadn’t felt more free in days.

He was right. You were going to miss these stupid jokes.

The three of you rolled onto the bed, you straddling Taeyong while Mark left noisy kisses down the sides of your neck from behind. “I want you both inside me. Please.” You moaned as Mark squeezed your boob from under your shirt, your head on his shoulder as Taeyong pulled your panties down, the three of you momentarily and, almost comically, struggling with taking them all the way off.

Your hands splayed across Taeyong’s bare chest, you bent over to kiss him. “I’ll miss you.” You whispered against his skin, and he squeezed the outside of your thigh in response. As Mark sheathed himself inside you for the second time that night, he began to thrust straight away. “Still fits like a fucking sleeve, so fucking good.” Your breath quickened as your clit rolled against Taeyong’s bare cock, your moans thickening as you watched Taeyong lie beneath you. “You ready, my love?” You nodded furiously, Mark holding onto you with an arm across your shoulders, pressing your body flush against his. Both men guided you onto Taeyong’s length, the stretch now burning, firecrackers exploding in your stomach. “Fuck! Oh fuck!” You couldn’t breathe, pulling at Mark’s arm, slowly registering him shushing you in your ear. “Relax, baby girl. You’re doing so well. Almost there.” Taeyong groaned in pleasure, shifting the tiniest bit, which made you yelp. The feeling was so unfamiliar, and your heart pounded at the new sensations. “Please, don’t move yet.” Taeyong rubbed circles on your clit, watching your face carefully.

“Nghh, ahh…” The feeling of both of them inside you was starting to choke you from the inside, deliciously bringing you close to a release. “Wait, Daddy, don’t-“ You squealed as you squirted, your clit throbbing from the aftermath. “Shit, I don’t know if I can-“

“You can cum again, pretty. I know you can.” You moaned, feeling both of them bump against each other and into your walls inside you, wet and messy. “Oh my god, oh my…” you babbled, holding onto anything as they thrusted relentlessly, both their timing desperate and rocky. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for us, jagi, that’s it.” Taeyong’s voice rose in pitch, and you heard Mark groaning in your ear, pressing your upper body closer to his. You came for the second time, gasping for air, hips rolling without permission over both their cocks. You slumped over Taeyong after, Mark pulling out and resting next to you both on the bed.

[lizziesblueberries]

Relax

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,598

Warnings: Mommy Kink, Mommy!Wanda, Bottom!Reader, but wait Top!Reader, praise kink, smut, yandere Wanda, possessive Wanda, possessive reader, maybe the dynamic switches, maybe it doesn’t, g!p reader, drinking breast milk, blowjob???, hehehe, maybe some rough sex, fluff, service Wanda, dom reader? Idk depends how you see it, |minors DNI, 18+

Summary: Fifth and final part to the series. The boys are finally here! And you and Wanda deserve some much needed time to yourselves.

Notes: Hello! I know its been so long since I last wrote, a whole year! And quite the year it has been. I just want to say thank you all for liking and commenting my stories. It means a lot and I’ve been so excited to write more for all of you! (and more importanlty, myself 😏) I do have more stories in plan and this will be the last fic for this series, so I hope it satisfies you all. Honestly, I cant wait to post the next story for you guys, this next one is definitely a bit more intense and dare I say, violent, duh duh dun! Anywho, enjoy my thirsty fan club!

Part 4

——

It’s been about 10 months since you first discovered you were pregnant, ten months since you and Wanda visited that quaint little Sokovian town and saw Strange. Ten months since you woke up with Wanda’s cum filling you completely and then having it ooze out of you when Wanda slowly pulled out. And its been one month since you gave birth to two beautiful little boys named Tommy and Billy.

A whole month has gone by, and it has been the most emotional and exhausting and best month of your life. You and Wanda gave birth in the cabin, Wanda having done a ton of research to prepare yourselves for when the boys came. And Wanda was the prefect partner. You on the other hand, well, Wanda wouldn’t say it out loud otherwise, for her sake. You had been going through emotional mood swings and cravings and body changes, and poor Wanda had to take the brunt of it all. Honestly, the amount of times you cried, threw up, or just threw a pillow at Wanda’s head, was countless. Wanda being Wanda, excepted it all and waited patiently for you to either calm down or rapidly change from angry to needy or some other mood that didn’t involve you wanting to aim something at her head.

Don’t get her wrong, there were some moments where she needed to take some deep breaths, but she knew you were going through something you couldn’t exactly control. And you were the one who was bearing her kids, so, it was the least she could do not to get frustrated or mad at you. You of course always appreciated her patience after, you were weirded out at first from the feeling of little bodies growing inside you, but you soon learned to love their little kicks and Wanda loved sensing their life as well. She spent the majority of your pregnancy being over joyed and over protective. If you so much as even suggested leaving the house for a walk, Wanda would immediately say no and try to distract you with other things. One of those things being sex. You honestly never thought you would ever turn Wanda down from any of her advances, but pregnancy seemed to prove you wrong. When you were in the mood for something it would stay that way until you got it. You would ask to go for a short walk outside, and her eyes would flash with panic, quickly coming up with another suggestion and press kisses against your throat.

“Why don’t we stay inside my love? Where it’s safe and warm, and perhaps reenact another magical moment together?” Wanda would say, doing her best to turn your mind somewhere else, but you were also stubborn. And while you may think you were the simp here, it was in fact Wanda who was the simp.

“No, I’m not in the mood Wanda I want some air and to look at some fucking trees for once, I need to stretch my legs.” You would say, and Wanda, the ever respectful lover, would back off and agree to you. Of course part of the agreement to go outside would involve you staying within a ten foot perimeter around the house and Wanda by your side at all times searching for any danger. It was cute though, to see Wanda so protective and vigilant for you and the boys, so you couldn’t really complain, you got to go outside anyways.

It seemed Wanda got even softer as you grew bigger, her jade eyes always on you, concerned, loving, or just gleeful to see you. Her protectiveness and possessiveness was still there, but there was something else. Your relationship turned into something more equal, she valued what you had to say and what to do, and you seemed to have understood her better than anyone. Loving each other in a more natural and at home kind of way and not just passion.

When the day finally did come, boy was Wanda the least calm you had ever seen her. She could feel your pain and wanted everything to go ok, laying you down and preparing for when the boys would come. Her magic surrounding everything she needed and almost pulsing in worry with her. You weren’t as worried at that point like she was, probably because you felt like your insides were tearing apart at that moment, honestly, who thought it was a good idea for women to give birth this way? That thought left your mind though as soon as you finally got a look at Tommy. Calm for a baby who just entered the world, but then again this was Wanda’s son. You nearly cried at the sight of him, then Billy was on the way and you definitely cried from having to go through the pain again.

It became a blur after that, but one thing you definitely remember seeing, was your two beautiful boys, and your beautiful wife, holding them. Wanda looked radiant, her eyes glistened and her smile was something only held for her boys and you. She gave you Billy soon after she checked for your health, using her magic and spells to make sure you were ok and not in pain anymore. And when you held Billy in your arms, you knew he was going to be a mamas boy, empathetic and sweet for his moms and brother. Wanda sat next to you on the freshly cleaned bed and you looked at Tommy adoringly. He was definitely going to be the one to drag Billy into all sorts of trouble, and from what you heard from Wanda’s stories of them, you would be very right.That night you and Wanda fell asleep with the boys held cradled into your chests (a spell was cast to not hurt them in your sleep of course) and you laid in bed as a new family.

A month has passed since then, and while you would never regret having the twins, they were honestly too adorable, your lack of sleep was weighing on you. The boys were little balls of energy and consumed everything they ate, crying for attention and waking you and Wanda up almost every two-three hours. Being pregnant and already developing milk, you and Wanda decided to breast feed them. This was not as fun as you would think, the whole, ‘babies drinking from their mother will increase the bond’ was not exactly true, those boys would suck everything dry, regardless of where it came from, and you were starting to think breastfeeding was not the grandest idea. Your breasts were sore and you couldn’t really produce enough milk for two growing baby boys, one of them being a speedster mind you.

And this ends our little summary of the past few months up until now. You, having just put the boys to sleep, and for once, the boys are not hungry. So now, you’re tired, AND sore with milk and you just wanted to have a nice relaxing night for once. You quietly walk out of the room downstairs to the kitchen, where Wanda is leaning against the counter sipping tea. Her eyes are slightly glazed from sleep, and she’s wearing a red robe like you are. You walk up to her and just fall into her front, head going into her neck and leaning all your weight into her. Wanda grunts from the surprise weight and sets her mug to the side to wrap her arms around you and hold you to her. You sigh into her and she just rests her head against yours.

“What is it detka? Tired?” Wanda quietly says, moving to softly rub her hands along your back soothingly. You just nod your head and let out a little hum. She chuckles at this and squeezes you to her, only instead of a happy sigh like she thought she would get from you, she gets a hiss of pain and immediately pulls back to look at you in worry. “What was that? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing Wanda I’m just sore because the boys didn’t feed, I think I’m going to get the pump out.” You say tiredly, not really bothered anymore, just wanting to get rid of the ache and milk and just head to bed. You turn and start to walk away, heading towards the cabinet to get the pump, but Wanda tugs on your hand, so you turn back to her in confusion. She looks you up and down, thoughtful and concerned, and maybe it’s the sleep talking but you think you also see a dark glint in her eye.

“What if I helped you out with that darling?” Wanda asks, and you just turn back around not really getting what she’s trying to say.

“That’s ok Wanda, I mean, unless you want to turn it on and watch, there’s not much to really help with the pump.” You walk away, across the kitchen and are about to grab the pump, but scarlet magic suddenly stops you, keeping you in place. “Wanda what-“

“I’m sorry baby, I don’t think you quite understood my question. I’m not asking to use the pump, I’m asking, if you would like my help with getting rid of some of what I’m sure is very warm and delectable milk.” Wanda slowly turns you around with her magic as she asks this. Her walk slow and seductive towards you, and its then you realize what she’s really asking.

“Oh,”

“Oh, indeed.” Wanda says amused. She’s in front of you now and she’s looking at you like she’s going to eat you whole. Her magic holding you still, she slowly waves her fingers and moves your hands behind your back. “So? Is that a yes? Would you like my help with that ache of yours babygirl?” Your eyes widen a bit at Wanda’s sudden pet name and bold choice of words, heat flushes to your face from the question.

“I’ve never- we’ve never done that before, I didn’t think you would ever want to. Are you sure?” You ask unsure. The thought has come to you on occasion, but very fleeting. Sleep and the boys have taken up most of your time, and its been a while since you’ve been in the mood for anything sexual. Your pregnancy didn’t exactly make you want to have sex all the time. You felt a little bad, since you knew Wanda was always wanting your body, but she was so caring and never forced herself or tried to make you do anything you didn’t want. In fact she let you initiate most of it. So to say you both had been blue balled was an understatement. An image of Wanda’s mouth on you flashed through your mind and you suddenly realized how badly you missed her and needed her. You looked into Wanda’s eyes and saw her looking right back at you, and you realized she needed it too. She nodded and all you could do was say, “please.”

After that, Wanda couldn’t hold back anymore. It had been weeks since she last got to have you, and now she could finally taste a new part of you. With a flick of her wrist, her magic pressed you against the wall, your arms held behind your back, pressing your chest up more to her. All she could do was look at your breasts, bigger than usual from being full, and she licked her lips slightly at the sight. You still couldn’t move, not that you were complaining, although it would be nice to touch her after so long, you just watched her instead and waited for her to get closer to you.

She finally pressed her body against yours and you both sighed at the feeling, Wanda moved her mouth to your neck and placed small feather light kisses along your throat. You shivered and wanted so much more, but it was nice, the softness and intimacy you could feel coming from her. She wanted to treasure you. Wanda moved her hands to your waist, her hands slid along your sides slowly, up closer to your chest on your ribs, your breathing was increasing and Wanda basked in feeling your breathing quicken and your ribs expand. She could hear your pants against her ear as she kissed down your throat and she enjoyed having you at her mercy, unable to move or leave her hold.

“Wanda please.” You begged. Already impatient and not interested in any teasing. Wanda pulled back to look at you, dark eyes glimmered as they took in your appearance and smirked. She moved into you again until her mouth was pressed against your collarbone and slowly mouthed down to your chest, pausing to place a reverent kiss against the red tattoo there, and then continued to the opening of your robe. Her hands finally put themselves where they belonged and cupped your breasts as she kissed between them. You arched into her, letting out a moan as you felt her start to lightly massage them. Your breasts were tender, and as Wanda kept gently massaging them, milk started to ease out of your nipples. Wet spots started to form where your robe covered them, and Wanda watched with fascination as the spots grew darker and bigger the more she touched you.

“My poor baby. So tender and aching. You’ve been doing so much lately. Pregnancy, giving birth, taking care of the twins, not getting enough sleep, and having to feed them. I should be taking better care of you, cook you nice nutritious meals, take on more work with the boys so you can sleep, help alleviate your sore breasts.” As Wanda said this, she emphasized her words with the action of gripping your breasts more firmly, squeezing them a bit harder, and you nearly went on your toes to try and ease her grip. But you couldn’t, so you just stood there and whimpered in half pain and pleasure.

“Mommy please!” You finally said, and that seemed to move Wanda into motion. Her teasing smirk and gleaming eyes turned feral and dark, and her expression dropped into one with a women on a mission. With a wave of her hand, your robe practically tore in half as she parted it with her magic, she waved her hand again and soon after your hands were raised above your head and held to the wall. Your chest pushed out more and her gaze fixated on your freed breasts, they were so soft looking, so suckable to her, your milk was dripping down your stomach at this point and she couldn’t wait to lick it all up.

She took a step into you and cupped your breasts again, listening to you whimper, she moved her mouth closer and you held your breath. But instead of what you wanted, she lowered her head and went to your stomach, licking a trail up to your breast cleaning up every trace of milk that fell. Your stomach clenched and you jolted from the surprise, and Wanda adored the part of you that was a bit ticklish and made you more sensitive. As she cleaned every trace of milk, she looked you in the eye as she went to its source and finally placed her lips around your nipple.

“Oh god.” You groaned. You could feel as Wanda smirked against your nipple, her warm mouth wrapped around it as she pushed herself more into you. Her body completely molded itself against yours and her magic held you even tighter. Her lips became more firm, and a hot tongue soon came out to press against your nipple. She pressed the tip under it and gave a nice suck, and soon after milk was flowing into her mouth.

Groaning at tasting this new part of you, Wanda squeezed you tighter to her and continued to suck on your nipple. Her knee moved to between your legs and you arched into her, feeling warm liquid leave you and pleasure envelope your sensitive body. It felt so nice having Wanda drink from you, tasting you. And a more possessive side was rearing its head at finally having Wanda take this part of you and make it a part of her. You wanted her to drink this new essence of you and have it in her, to taste you and become addicted to it. It felt like this was the equivalent of having her drink your own cum, as perverted as it sounded, it made you all the more hot as she drank your milk, it made it all the more pleasurable.

Wanda was drinking from you like a woman starved, one hand was holding your breasts to her mouth and the other was trailing down your body to your hip. Her pinkie caressed the panties under it and soon that pinkie was sliding under the cloth and inching closer to your center. You were watching Wanda as she was attached to your chest and you were watching her when her eyes opened suddenly and they glowed from sea foam green to a burning red. Then your hands were released from her hold, but not your body, that didn’t stop you though from dropping your arms down to wrap them around her neck and tangle your fingers through her auburn hair. Pulling her even closer as if she wasn’t already as close as she could be, you pressed her more firmly against your breast and moaned when she rewarded you with a finger pressing against your clit.

“Babygirl you taste so good.” Wanda moaned against you. Wanda could almost feel how pleasurable it was for you, how your thoughts and feelings all gathered into one lovely erotic moment for you both. She could sense your desperation for her and more importantly, she was desperate for you, and for what has felt like the longest time, she could finally act on her need for you. Each time Wanda took a drink from you, she circled your clit. The pulses connecting between your nipple and the deep tug from your breasts as well as the the matching rhythm against your clit, was driving you wild, and soon you could feel yourself coming. Your body lost control of itself and started moving on its own. Wanda watched as you pressed your chest more into her and your hips stuttered against her hand. Your body was shaking and you closed your eyes with a silent scream and came so hard, even Wanda was bit taken aback, but didn’t hesitate to hold you and slowly ease you from your orgasm.

As you came down from wherever Wanda took you, you started to calm your breathing and realized your nails were gripping tightly into Wanda’s neck and back. With a sheepish smile you eased your hold and gently rubbed her new marks from you. Wanda merely smiled and kissed you sweetly.

“Did that hurt Wanda?” You asked.

“Not nearly enough darling.” Wanda said with a chuckle and smirked at your sweet, concerned face.

“Well if that’s the case.” Your face turned darker as you said this and Wanda was once again taken aback by your expression and was even more bamboozled when she was suddenly turned around and you were pinning her to the wall. Honestly, if you weren’t so turned on by her you would have laughed at her stunned face, but you had no time for that and went straight to just kissing her deeply, making an ‘mphm’ come out of Wanda’s captured mouth.

Your breasts were less sore now and you had no problem pressing your body against hers to keep her pinned against the wall. Wanda didn’t know what had come over you, she was so used to her always taking the lead or dominating, now it seems the roles were reversed. Wanda took this time to peek into your mind and was very intrigued by were you wanted to go with this, but more importantly, you seemed to need it, and that made Wanda need it too.

You’d gripped Wanda’s waist to control her body movement, and broke the kiss with a gasp, “Take off your clothes Wanda” you said. Wanda looked at you with a curious face, studying everything you were showing her. You face way determined and almost stern, no, more like you knew you were going to get what you wanted. Your voice was deep and breathless and honestly Wanda was really turned on by how aggressive you were being right now. Still looking at you, Wanda waved her hand and both your clothes were fully removed with a red flash. You breathed in deeply and took a good look at your wife. You may not of had an official wedding, but she was yours, and five months into your pregnancy, Wanda had made a ring for you both and you’d never taken it off. You looked at your wife and fully appreciated what was right in front of you. Wanda’s hips that you were gripping were full and soft, her red hair was in pretty waves going down her shoulders and her breasts, god her breasts were the most beautiful things you’d ever wanted to put in your mouth. They were what you fell asleep on every night and Wanda’s jade eyes were what you woke up to every morning. Wanda’s eyes were staring into yours when you were done appraising her, she was staying nice and still for you and you loved it. You didn’t know what was going on with you, but you felt a deep need to just take her. Everything in you was screaming to just take Wanda. Look at her, her lips were swollen from drinking your breast milk, from your kiss. Her pupils were blown wide and her eyes were saying ‘do what you want with me’ and so you did.

“I think you know what I want Wanda.” You said with a rasp in your voice. Wanda’s eyes flashed red from pure arousal alone. They way you were looking and speaking to her was making her lose it, and she didn’t need to read your mind to know what you were asking for. With a shaky nod from her and a wave of her hand, red magic covered between your legs and soon you felt a new appendage there. Wanda sunk to her knees and you stood there while she looked up at you and waited for you to tell her what to do. You felt a rush run through you and you wanted to feel more of it. Wanda was being such a good little thing submitting for you without you having to even tell her.

Wanda watched the way your eyes grew darker and your expression became pleased, she watched as you sorted through your emotions and waited for you to decide what you wanted next. She wouldn’t lie if you asked her if she liked this. She loved it. She loved being your mommy, but she finally understood why you loved submitting to her as well. The feeling she got when she sank to her knees for you, was something she felt deep in her chest. She could feel your satisfaction from her actions and it made her almost want to cum. This new feeling was beyond her, but she wanted to feel more.

As you looked at your darling wife, you could feel your cock pulse for her. “Be my good wife and milk me some more darling.” You growled, you waited for Wanda to listen and nearly buckled at the knee when Wanda took her hand, gently took hold of your strap, and placed her lips on the tip. Wanda kept eye contact as she tasted you like this for the first time. Her fucking beautiful mouth slowly wrapped around your cock and as she held it with her hand, put her other hand against your thigh to lift more up on her knees so she could lean more into you and support herself.

You let out a guttural moan as you looked down at her, her warm mouth and hot, wet tongue slid itself along your strap and for gods sake it was the hottest sight and hottest feeling. It was just as pleasurable as it was for your pussy, just different, and that different feeling elevated everything that was happening. To feel Wanda surround herself like this around you was making you feral and goddammit you couldn’t handle it anymore, you needed more, you needed to do something.

That something was to tangle your fingers in those red luscious locks and trust your hips against her while you held her still. Wanda took it with grace, opening her mouth wider and sliding her mouth along your cock until it touched the back of her throat. She gagged a little but was fine after that when you just kept thrusting. Wanda breathed through her nose and watched your face as you lost yourself in her. This was almost just as pleasurable for her as it was for you. She soon grew to love this side of you, love this feeling of taking another part of you in her mouth, and now she wanted to taste another form of cum from you.

You were getting close, you looked down at Wanda and groaned at the site of her on her knees, her cheeks hollowed for your cock, and drool dripping down from her chin with how much she was getting into sucking you. She was doing all the right things and even though you knew she was struggling to catch her breath, that made it all the better and the more perverted side of you loved it. You gripped her head tighter and thrusted faster as Wanda knelt there and let you use her. You needed something, one last thing, you just didn’t know what that was, until Wanda, sensing you were close, meaning she could taste your cum sooner, moaned against your cock and the rest was left for hell to deal with.

The sound you made as you came was blush worthy and the slapping came to a halt, and you made one last thrust as shoved your cock as far as you could down her throat and came. Wanda gripped your hips and pressed closer against you, doing her best to make sure every last drop of cum would go down her throat. You felt her throat and tongue move against your cock and actually heard her gulp a little as she drank everything from you. You didn’t realize it, but do to the heightened feelings and how long its been since Wanda got to last taste you, when the first drop of cum hit her throat and she heard you cum, she came with you. Her pussy clenched around nothing but she didn’t need anything, your pleasure and taste was all she needed and she came with clenched eyes and a long moan around you.

“There’s a good girl, god Wanda you feel so good.” You whispered as you slowly caressed her hair and you both calmed down. You were both finished so you gently pulled back and Wanda could finally relax her jaw and take some deep breaths. She hunched over a bit and this made you worried as you knew you were rough with her and may have hurt her. You knelt down with her and held her face to have her look at you. “Darling? Are you alright?” You sounded so concerned.

“Im alright baby.” Wanda said as she looked up and smiled at you. You felt yourself relax a bit and rubbed your thumbs along her beautiful cheeks, remembering how hollow they looked with her mouth around you… you shook your head a bit and checked her over.

“You’re not hurt anywhere? Did I go to hard, could you not breathe?” You asked. Wanda simply smiled again and kissed you to settle your concerns. When she pulled back she looked you in the eyes so you knew she was being honest and reassured you again that she was perfectly fine.

“I quite enjoyed that darling, you were a good mix of rough but not too much.” She said.

“Okay good, I’m glad, that would have been not fun if that were the case, I don’t ever want to actually hurt you.” You said. Wanda looked happy and so were you. That made you even more happy considering this new dynamic between you had been both pleasurable and you hadn’t hurt her. Knowing she enjoyed this too made you excited for future scenarios, and that excitement made you remember you could physically show that excitement and looked down. “Um, so I know that I’m kinda hard right now, but I’m also really exhausted, but I also really want to make sure you’re satisfied too, so tell me what you need Wanda and i’ll do my best to help.” You nervously said.

Wanda chuckled and kissed you sweetly on the nose, she pulled back and pleasantly surprised you with her next words. “Actually, dear I already came with you, just when you did as a matter of fact.” Wanda smirked at you.

“Really?! That’s so exciting and I didn’t even know that could happen Wanda! God I was so overwhelmed I didn’t even realize. Was it alright? Do you want my help with another one?” You stuttered out. You were amazed at this and Wanda could tell you were also nervous a bit with the new things you had tried with her.

“Calm down my darling, I’m quite satisfied at the moment. Hearing you cum, feeling it, tasting it, that was all I needed and I’m pretty sure I came just as hard as you. Now, why don’t we get up and take ourselves to bed. I think were both exhausted after the boys and this lovely night was just what we needed.” Wanda waved her hand and suddenly you were both clean and clothed and you specifically were appendage free. Thank you magic.

“I think that sounds lovely Wanda, thank you for doing this with me and trusting me to have the control like this.” You both got up as you said this and you felt so good and relaxed. You looked at Wanda and pulled her gently to you. Your arms circled her waist and she wrapped her arms around your neck, you both stood there and leaned into each other, just breathing each other in. “I love you Wanda” you whispered against her lips.

“I love you darling” Wanda whispered back and softly kissed you. Amongst all that had happened, it seemed it was you two whispering that finally woke the two twin boys that you both had been blissfully having a break from. Crying was heard from up the stairs and you both laughed a little at the timing. Wanda grabbed your hand and started walking, pulling you along with her as you both walked up the stairs. You watched behind her as you both went up and into the boys room. The twins room was decorated with a mix of blue and greens and in the middle were two cradles holding both your precious treasures. You both went to a separate bed and picked up your sons. You had Billy and Wanda held Tommy.

“Shhh, mommy’s here Billy, and so is momma.” Wanda delicately whispered as she rubbed Billy’s back, you did the same for Tommy. You both gravitated towards each other, and it seemed that calmed down the boys, as their crying calmed and Tommy looked at you. He was the cutest thing, his brown eyes looking at you with curiosity and familiarity. It soothed your soul knowing these precious boys were yours and Wanda’s. You could see so much of her in him. You held him close to you as his eyes started to droop, then you looked at Billy. Him doing the same only fighting a little harder to stay awake and watch Wanda. You couldn’t blame him as you looked at her next. She was the most beautiful person you would ever see and you guess Billy thought the same. He was definitely going to be a momma’s boy. You smirked, you were already mommy’s girl. She looked at Billy with so much wonder and you knew you were right were you needed to be. With your family, that you’d made with the woman you loved, and your boys were happy and safe and together again.

Wanda looked at you and stepped closer, her smile so gentle and at peace, you would never get enough of seeing it. God you loved her. She swayed into you and you both adjusted to hold each other and the boys as they fell asleep safe in both of your arms. You didn’t know it yet, but this would be just one of many moments between you and your family. Wanda had done something she never imagined. She’d found you and made her family whole again. All that suffering. All the pain and fighting to get her loved ones back. And yet, all she needed was you and it all fell perfectly into place. You were at first just hers. What had started as her in your mind, became her having your heart, and then she became yours. You belonged to each other and were equal, partners through everything and you both could finally just, relax.

—

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[aprocessionofthoughts]

Doubt

whumptober24 day 2- trust issues tw- none summary- family vacations are the worst

ao3 masterlist part 11 of DLM

Danny wasn’t sure what to think. Jason had said he could trust the other bats, he had even grudgingly admitted that they were family. But Danny knew that family didn’t always mean acceptance.

The rest of the bats didn’t even know Jason was liminal! They knew he’d been resurrected, but what if knowing he was still connected to death made them change their mind? What if they rejected Jason? It would be all Danny’s fault. And even if they accepted Jason, they might not accept Danny who was more than just a little liminal.

But the Anti-Ecto Acts needed to be repealed. Maybe they’d be willing to help with that at least, since even those with only a little contamination were affected and Gotham stank of ecto-contamination. 

What was he supposed to do? 

“Hey, I can hear you overthinking from over here.” Jason said from the driver's seat of the car they were taking back to Gotham. Dick was a little ways behind following on a motorcycle.

“Listen,” Jason said, glancing at him through the rearview mirror, “I know you’re probably stressed, but it’s going to be okay. If I thought for even a little bit that they’d react negatively, then I wouldn’t tell them shiiiss– stuff, I wouldn't tell them stuff.” Jason corrected with a cough, his ears turning red.

Danny snorted. He tried to relax. Even if they reacted negatively, Danny thought to himself, he could get both Jason and himself out if needed.

And he had to try. For the good of all the citizens of the Infinite Realms that didn’t deserve to be hunted down and experimented on.

And it helped that Danny could sense Jason’s intentions. He didn’t project emotions the same way a ghost did, but it was enough to feel that Jason really trusted the rest of the bats.

It was probably another thirty minutes because of traffic till they were leaving the more populated area of the city and started to pass progressively larger and more ostentatious houses. 

“Umm… didn’t you say we were going to see the rest of the bats? Do you guys have some hideout out here?”

Jason glanced back at him. “Oh, uhhh… So, I guess I forgot to mention who Batman was didn’t I?” Jason chuckled awkwardly. “My, umm, my dad’s Bruce Wane.” Jason said, then fell silent.

Danny blinked at him.

“Is he super rich or something?” Danny said looking out at the fancy houses.

Jason spluttered. “Don’t you know who Bruce Wayne is?!”

“Am I supposed to? Is he famous or something?”

Jason sighed, cursing under his breath. “Sorry, I forgot you’re not from Gotham. But still, most people still know the name Wayne.” he glanced at Danny through the rearview mirror again. “Bruce is a billionaire who helps fund most of the support programs in Gotham, as well as the Justice League, though that part is kept secret. He’s also Batman, in case that wasn’t clear.” Jason said the smirk evident in his voice.

Danny huffed, but couldn’t help but smile.

Finally, they pulled up to a large gate and Danny could only barely see the roof of the house beyond the rows of trees that stood between the road and the house.

With a beep, the gate swung open and they started up the exaggeratedly long driveway. Danny stared through the window trying to see the house, and couldn’t help gaping when the house, no, the mansion came into view. “This is where you grew up?! It’s big enough to be a museum or hotel or something!”

Jason chuckled. “Technically, I only lived here a few years, but yeah. It’s massive and takes some getting used to.”

Jason parked in front of the house, and they climbed up the steps where the door was opened by a butler. A butler. What even was this? Vlad would be seething with envy.

“Good afternoon, Master Jason.” the butler said before turning to Danny with a smile. “Hello, young sir. I am Alfred Pennyworth.”

“Umm… Hi, Mr. Pennyworth. I’m Danny.”

He smiled. “A pleasure to meet you, Mister Danny. You may call me Alfred.”

“Umm.. ok. Danny’s just fine. You don’t need to add a mister or anything.” Danny shifted uncomfortably.

Alfred just smiled at him, before leading them inside.

Jason chuckled, “He’s still going to call you mister. Alfred is very proper, no matter how many times we try to get him to call us by just our first names he insists on being extra proper.”

“Almost everyone is gathered in the game room. Master Bruce is with his colleagues, but he’ll be here for supper.”

“Thanks, Alfred. Dick was just behind us, so he’ll also be up soon.” Jason said.

Alfred nodded. “Go ahead and introduce our guest to the others. I shall prepare some refreshments and bring them shortly.”

“Thanks, Alfred.” Jason said, smiling fondly. Alfred smiled back before waking off.

“Well,” Jason clapped his hands together, “ready to meet the rest of the family?”

Danny hesitated. He was doing this for Jason, for the rest of the ghosts and liminals. For himself.

He nodded. “Lead the way.”

[starhvney]

mys!vylad x fem!reader, spending the night together and talking about everything in life ? pretty plz 🙏

𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mys vylad x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and your best friend are always able to talk about everything, and you're always able to enjoy each other's silence. isn't it obvious he'd want to spend the rest of his life with you, just like this?

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, best friends to more? very obvious mutual pining, vylad is a sweetheart, he loves you hehehehe

𝐂𝐖: none?

𝐀/𝐍: I LOVE VYLAD I LOVE HIM! also i did nawt proof read this so i'm sorry for any typos guys :c

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

oh, vylad. the youngest sibling of the ro’meave family, overlooked by his father and quietly forgotten by everyone else. he’s said over and over that he doesn’t mind, that the handful of people he holds close to his heart—including you—are enough for him to feel like he’s enough.

and you know he means it. he has always been mature and open about his feelings, even when he was a kid, and you know he had grown even more since then. but despite all the meditation and journaling and talking, those moments when you’re pushed aside like nothing as a kid can stick with you. he handled that internal angst much better than zane, that was for sure.

at least garte had cared enough about him to help finance such a nice place to live. a small and cozy house at the edge of town, private with a backyard leading into the woods. it was so vylad. from the warm interior to the well decorated back porch, which was where you found yourself now, a couple of hours deep in conversation.

“i mean, it’s not like i was necessarily neglected or anything. but sometimes i just felt so… different. and far away.”

his voice is hushed and quiet, keeping the scene serene and light despite the heavy turn of your conversation. one of his arms props up your head, snugly creating a comfortable pillow for your neck as his hand lightly traced shapes into your arm. 

it had been a while since you’d last seen your best friend, and best friend is a label between the two of you that hadn’t questioned or changed for years despite the quite obvious feelings you both shared. that line that led you both to being something more hadn’t yet been crossed, but the lack of space between you as you laid together in his hammock dangerously teetered that line.

it wasn’t because you were scared, you don’t think. no, not with vylad. in fact you’re sure it’s because you were the least bit scared with him. even if you weren’t official, you knew he’d always be there, and you’d be waiting for him. there was something comforting about the slow burn you had with him, because you weren’t all that afraid that you’d lose him.

“i’m at peace with it though. i mean, i was as fine as i could be about it even as a kid and when i made it to high school, but in a way it still kinda hurt. you know?”

you turn your head to him, observing at how soft his side profile looked in the dim lighting of twilight. the sun has just disappeared beyond the tree line and horizon, waking the crickets up for their nightly concert and casting a dim blue light over the sky. the stars hadn’t quite begun to show themselves, but you’re sure the both of you would talk here well until every constellation could be seen hanging above your heads.

“it was emotional neglect, vylad. you had every right to feel upset and left out. even though garroth and zianna treated you with so much love, zane and garte acted like you didn’t even exist. that’s hurtful.”

he’s quiet for a moment. not from anger, or sadness. he’s just thinking, and you give him that time to, comforted by the slow sway of the hammock and his fingers on your skin. when he gathers his thoughts he turns to look at you, your noses nearly brushing against the other.

“yeah, i guess so. but zane is better, and… i think dad has started to care more in his old age. it’s kinda late to really bond with him like he did with garroth and even zane, but… i still want to try.”

you don’t need to say anything, and he doesn’t expect you to either. it’s the smile and the slow nod of encouragement you give him that satisfies him, sending a peaceful quiet over the two of you as he looks back up to the sky.

the quiet between you stretches on until the constant soothing rocking and the warmth of vylad’s body by your side lulls you until your eyelids feel heavy against your face. you don’t realize you’ve nearly completely passed out until vylad nudges you with his hand, his voice muffled in your ears.

“hm?”

“let’s go inside.”

“why?” you draw out the question, stretching your limbs.

“cause you’re falling asleep, silly.” he quietly laughs.

you nearly roll over in the hammock as he gets up, the jostle bringing you to your senses a bit as you catch yourself. warm large hands encase yours, tugging them up and pulling the rest of your body up after. you try to not be completely dead weight with your legs, but end up creating too much momentum, your body crashing into his as you practically fly into him.

“woah!” he laughs, steadying you by your shoulders.

you nod, most definitely awake now as he rests his hand on your back, guiding you back up the stairs through his screened off porch and into his back door.

“wanna watch a movie?” he suggests, pointing you to the couch as he pulls a blanket from the closet.

“sure.” you concede, the soft cushions and throw pillows looking unbelievably inviting.

you plop yourself right down into the seat, and you were not wrong about the comfort of the couch. you practically sink down into the worn in cushions, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as your eyes drift closed again. the blanket is draped over you and you feel the couch dip down next you, the light from the tv flashing behind your eyelids.

“already asleep again?” vylad questions, making you force your eyelids open again, looking over to him.

“sorry, i’m not trying to be lame on you.”

“you could never be lame to me.” he quickly returns, voice hushed and soft.

his eyes are wide, pupils blown as he looks around the features on your face.

“it’s okay,” he continues. “you’re gonna stay over anyways, right? we can talk more in the morning. if you’re tired, then just sleep.”

you can’t help the small smile that forms on your face, the warmth settling into your chest. it’s as if his words were laced with a sleeping agent, your head falling to his shoulder while the faint sound of the show he played turn into white noise in your ears.

your eyes barely crack open again, but this time you don’t find yourself curled up on the couch or squished into the hammock. instead you’re so… comfortable. your limbs stretch into the warm quilt that drapes across you, head sinking down into your pillow.

…your pillow?

eyelids that were heavy just a second before snap open, your eyes drifting around vylad’s bedroom with realization of where you were. your feet meet the cool wooden floor, your arms wrapping around yourself from the cold as you step out into the hall, catching faint noises from the kitchen.

vylad is there, sun shining into his hair from the window and casting a reddish tint in his hair. he’s over the stove, scrambling some eggs and glancing over to the toaster where two slices of bread poke out. there’s a plate with sausage, too, next to butter and what looked like a few different options for jams.

he jumps a little when you sneak up on his side, shooting you a small smile as you pick them up to debate your options.

“of course you have blackberry jam from o’khasis and… tu’la mountain wildberry jam? when’d you get these?”

“you meet some cool people when you go on hike excursions. you should try a little of each of those, they’re really good.”

you hum, setting the glass jars down.

“you moved me to your bed last night?”

“yep,” he nods, leaning his arm into your shoulder. “i slept on the couch, by the way.”

“you didn’t have to do that, i wouldn’t have minded sharing with you.”

“well, it’s fine. my couch is comfortable and i wasn’t gonna wake you up to bother you about it.”

you huff. “i can’t believe i was so tired i didn’t even wake up to you moving me.”

“well i’m glad you got some good sleep.”

you shake your head, leaning into vylad’s side and holding onto his waist for a tight hug. he turns the heat off, sliding the pan of freshly made eggs off the stove burner as he wholeheartedly returns the gesture. his cheek rests against the top of your head, a relaxed sigh leaving his lips.

“thank you for breakfast.”

“of course.” he whispers, voice rustling your bed hair. “i’d make you breakfast every morning, if i could.”

your brain is still too foggy with the early morning, vylad’s warm chest against your ear and the sun shining in against your closed eyelids distracting you from the stutter of both of your heartbeats at his words. maybe when you’ve woken up, and the two of you chat over breakfast, you can gain the courage to ask what he means.

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[galacticspaceguy]

can i have a miguel o’hara platonic reader?? maybe younger sibling and he’s overly protective of them. they want to fight alongside miguel and help him restore the multiverse but miguel wont allow them. they get into a mini argument which ends with them hugging n stuff and finally miguel allows his younger sibling to fight w him IDK IF THIS IS A LOT BUT I NEED MORE PLATONIC X READERS 😭😭

Miguel O’Hara x gn! Reader (platonic)

You were Spider-Man.

Ok, You were all Spider-Man.

But you were different. At least, Miguel would say so. Not in a bad way. Miguel just liked you more than everyone else.

You were younger, and he felt responsible for you.

You both come from different worlds, except his was gone. You were the only good thing he had left, you were like the little sibling he never asked for but always wanted.

How did you two meet? Well, it’s a long story.

It actually isn’t that long.

Almost a year ago, you were fighting Green Goblin, and then Miguel showed up, and kicked his ass.

-and then you got recruited.

You don’t really know why though, you never did anything.

You mostly stayed in the lobby. Correction, you only ever stayed in the lobby. Yeah, you had your own earth and everything, but Miguel had a bunch of stuff figured out so all the dangerous criminals in your world would be taken care of.

Now all that was left was small crimes, like break-ins or petty theft. You spent most of your days getting cats out of trees.

It was nice not getting the shit- crap beaten out of you every few weeks, but this was just boring.

But you guess with Miguel to keep you company, it wasn’t too bad.

It was obvious to the rest of the spider lobby that Miguel was protective of you- perhaps too much. They even started calling you “Y/N O’Hara” or “mini O’hara”, much to your own amusement.

“Hey, Miguel!” You called out, strolling into Miguel’s totally not evil void office. “You done brooding, I got us empanadas from Earth- something-something,I forgot.”

You held two white styrofoam containers in your hands. You clicked the web shooter in your palm. A web stuck into a base and you swung yourself up to Miguel’s upper platform.

“At first I was gonna get Chinese takeout, but it turns out some guy exploded the place, so this shall suffice!” You lightly tossed him one of the containers.

You took a seat on top of a table, crossed your legs and started digging in.

“So-“ you said through bites. “What did you do today despite standing here all menacingly?”

Miguel had taken a seat, picking at little bits of his food.

Miguel looked at you with a look you could only describe as a silent “really?”.

“I’m kidding!” You threw your hands up innocently. “But no, seriously what have you been doing in here?”

He placed his food down, and pulled up a screen, showing off a picture of the Spiderverse- or the ultimately confusing Humanoid-Arachnia, poly multiverse- or whatever Miguel calls it.

“More worlds are becoming infected. It’s like the whole multiverse is about to collapse in on itself.” His tone of voice was already serious, but you knew behind that stoicism, he was scared.

You ate your food down, and walked towards him. You leaned over his shoulder, looking at all the red little dots on the screen, the names of different spider universes popping up like crazy.

“What am I even looking at right now?” You said this as more of a joke. Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Please, take this seriously.”

“I will once you give me my first job.” You crossed your arms. You’ve been begging to be out in the field for months, to no avail.

Miguel got up and turned to face you. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this-“

There was a loud beeping sound coming from the screen.

“Lyla, what’s going on!?”

“Another dimension, another anomaly, you know the drill.” The mini holographic woman said.

Miguel sighed, his face a blank slate of unknown emotions. He started walking away. You trailed behind him.

“Great, let’s get going!”

He froze in his tracks. “Who said you were going.”

“Uh, me.” You stopped and turned to look at him, placing a confident hand on your hip.

“No.” He brushed past you.

“Wait, what!?” You quickly caught up with him, but he continued walking. “But I’ve been waiting for this for months!”

“You’re not going.” He didn’t even look at you. He started tampering with his watch.

“But that’s not fair!?” You yelled. You stopped, and stood there. He heard your steps come to a stop, and he slowly came to a halt.

“It’s too dangerous.” He still wasn’t looking at you, and it was starting to drive you insane.

“You can’t be serious.” You almost laughed. “You call up Jess for backup, and she’s with child!” You scoffed.

“You’re not ready.” He said, a bit louder this time, clearer.

“Yes, I am. I’m spiderman! I’ve been ready, why won’t you let me do this!?” You walked up to him. He finally turned to face you.

“You’re not going. That’s final.” He shook his head. The look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

He didn’t think you were strong enough.

You weren’t enough.

“You don’t think I can do it!?” You yelled.

“Y/N, that’s not what I meant-“

“Oh, sure!” You’d scoffed, throwing your hands up in defeat. “That’s why you won’t let me tag along- or won’t even let me fight my own battles, why not, huh? Am I not strong enough for you?”

You were jolted forward when he grabbed your shoulders. He shook you. You froze in his grasp.

“I can’t lose anyone else!”

He screamed. The emotional walls he held up fell. He panted, seemingly out of breath from a single sentence. He let go of you, letting his hands fall to his sides.

Everything is so eerily quiet, nothing but the sounds of shaky breaths and the sounds of machinery in the background.

“I can’t…” Miguel said in nothing higher than a whisper. If he spoke another word, he would break.

You wrapped your arms around him. It catches him off guard at first, but quickly he holds you, like if he lets go, you would disappear.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper, and you can feel his arms tighten around you.

After what felt like an eternity of it just being you two, you let go. Miguel looks away to hide his tear stained face.

“You get one mission. If it goes well, you can come on more.” His voice was hoarse, but it was beginning to return to its normal tone.

“Yes!” You shouted, and hugged him again, this time it was short and outlived. He smiles down at you.

“What are we waiting for?” You asked, pulling him along. “Let’s go save the multiverse!”

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

5. Devoted to You

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader / The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch @themadhattersqueen

We pull up to the Howard residence. Each step of the entrance was familiar under my feet. The once relaxing walls now filled shoulder to shoulder with pricks. It’s lively, with music playing and guests exchanging conversation. I didn’t seem to recognize many people majority of them being Vault Tech employees. Louis grabs a couple of drinks before dragging Heather and her boyfriend away to meet people.

“This ain’t much of a party. Looks like a big business deal.” Johnny notes. I shake my head in disappointment. “This party sucks. Just wait until you come to the after-parties of the tour. They’re so fun.” Johnny smirks as he swipes two glasses of whisky. I hate whisky. Cooper would’ve never gotten me a glass of whiskey. He knows my favorite wine and would have it on tap waiting for me.

We made acquaintance with a few people on the camera crew. One happened to be an assistant on the set of a music video I made a while back. “I LOVED that song!” She sings it drunkenly causing me to laugh. I took pictures with several of the Vault Tech employees mimicking my famous Nuka Cola pose. Little by little the night eased with the whiskey. I was relaxed. Given it had something to do with the amount of drugs and alcohol in my system but I’ll take happiness as it comes.

Now outside in the large gazebo in the garden we loudly socialize. Johnny sits smoking away, Heather and her boyfriend are all cuddling up talking to some other couple, Louis is in the middle sweet-talking some businessman for all he’s worth, and here I am swaying drunkenly to a song in my head in the middle of the freshly cut grass.

I spot a familiar figure exiting the house. The skinny guy walking down our way. “My piano man! Henry!” I laugh with open arms beckoning him into a hug. His face is bright red as he pulls away. “(Y/n), it… it’s so good to see you. I didn’t think you would remember me.”

“Friends, this is Henry MacLean. He can play the piano like no other. On the spot too!” My group welcomes him in nicely, all of us too buzzed to give a damn. Johnny stands with a smile, “there’s a piano inside.” I look at him and scoff, “Ah, don’t make me sing.”

Henry shrugs, certainly not going to turn down the opportunity to play for me. “I can play by ear,”

“You should've heard her earlier in the shower. She was singing this beautiful song. I had never heard it before.” Heather says as she leans up. “That’s because it’s unreleased. I’m still working on it. It’s a new project.” Heather frowned, “it was so beautiful but sounded so sad.” I shrug, “All my songs can't be happy.” Especially when all I can compose is depressing ballads. The only emotion I can feel when I try to write a song is want, and an ache burns in my chest. I want Cooper. I dream of a life where we were together. I love him, and I forever will. I am bound to him as roots are to a tree. Never seen, hidden beneath the beautiful growth of nature.

Johnny tosses his arm over my shoulders. “Come on everyone, Miss America here is going to sing us a song.”

~

I walk down the steps leading to the pool, “Excuse me. Your wine.” I place my cigarette in the glass before passing the waitress and sitting in front of my friend, “Well, shit, Seabass. You might be the only one of my invites who actually showed up.” He nods with a small smile. “Not all true, (y/n) seems to be having a swell time.” I look in the direction of his gesture. She’s swaying in the grass barefoot, without a care. A pure beauty in the mixture of facade company. I would give anything to go over to her, sweep her off her feet, and drag her to the bedroom. Peppering her skin with kisses as I make up for the time I have lost with her.

I suck in a breath, returning to the conversation at hand. “Not our usual scene, I’ll give you that.” He hums with a flat smile, “I think our Hollywood actor friends don’t want to be seen celebrating with the pitchman for the end of the world.” I shake my head, “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. You hear I lost a movie over these ads?” He looks at me in all seriousness, “No.” “Yeah, showed up to set, the actors wouldn’t come out of their trailers. Bonnie Lewis said it was on moral grounds.”

He scoffs, “Bonnie Lewis? She’s done more ads than a fucking billboard.”

At that point, I couldn’t help but hear the annoying voice of (y/n)‘s friend. “Come on everyone, Miss America here is going to sing us a song.” They trail past us, his arm thrown over her shoulder so casually. He smiles at me as they pass. She avoided all eye contact. I may not be able to touch her, but I can still allow myself the pleasure of watching her perform, especially since I am the host. It would be rude of me to not attend.

~

We stand in the large living room, Johnny clinking his glass catching everyone's attention. "If I could have everyone's attention!" All eyes on us, Johnny holds me out at arm's distance. "Who wants to hear my girl sing?" The applause begins, as it always does. Henry sits at the piano I lean over humming the intro to him. I turn back to the crowd, and I see him. Clad in a black shirt his hair brushed and jelled to perfection. I intake a brethe. The corner of his lip twitches, threatening a smile.

"Well, this is a very special night. I'm so thankful to Vault Tech for looking toward the future and keeping us American citizens safe. As a token of gratitude, I would like to perform a song that I've been working on. I hope you enjoy." I end the speech looking into Cooper's eyes, this song was for him after all. The piano starts slow, I take a deep breath in begin to sing.

"Guess mine is not the first heartbroken

My eyes are not the first to cry

I'm not the first to know

There's just no getting over you"

Cooper watches intensely as I sing. I look towards him touching my chest.

"I know I'm just a fool who's willing

To sit around and wait for you

But baby, can't you see there's nothing else for me to do?

I'm hopelessly devoted to you"

I was devoted to him. Even if I were to date someone, hell even marry them. I wouldn't ever be able to let go of my feelings for him. I burned for him, I craved him, I couldn't live without him.

"But now there's nowhere to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm out of my head

Hopelessly devoted to you"

He took a step forward, beckoning to my call, to my song, to my soul. I was indeed out of my head for him. I was trying to replace the missing touches and whispers with drugs and alcohol. He was my cure. Sadly, he was unreachable. So all I could do was fall deeper down into the hole, only dreaming of him.

"My head is sayin', "Fool, forget him"

My heart is sayin', "Don't let go

Hold on to the end", that's what I intend to do

I'm hopelessly devoted to you"

I would wait for him, in this world, or the next. Maybe we got the timing wrong, but one thing was true. Our souls were meant to love one another. Cooper stares at me as a starved man looks at his first meal. Moving closer to the stage he acts as a lion, priding through his field, coming to take what belongs to him.

"But now there's no way to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm outta my head

Hopelessly devoted to you"

I lean down, reaching out, directing my attention to Cooper. Silently, begging him to grasp my hand, hold me tight, and tell me everything was okay. One more step would be all it takes for us to be in the vicinity. "Hopelessly devoted to you," Cooper nods, understanding my message. I would wait for him. Unhealthy, and toxic, but I would do it just for him.

Applause rings out loudly breaking my trance. I back away from Cooper, now feeling the tears in my eyes. I smile at everyone, waving as I exit the living room, dashing for the door. The overwhelming emotions threatened to tip over. I was spiraling, without him. My soul was starving without its flame.

I made it down the driveway until a hand caught my wrist. "Stop, honey. For me, please." I turn to see Cooper. His finger curled around my wrist softly. Tears flowing down my cheeks I attempted to tear my arm from his grasp. I was drowning in a sea of emotions. I didn’t know if I wanted to yell at him or throw myself into his arms. He keeps his grip firm, placing his other hand on my bicep. “(Y/n)”, he breathes out as if I’m a dream.

I feel myself filling with rage, tears still streaming down my face. “What? What the fuck could you possibly have to say to me?” He stays silent, eyes begging, but I continue to chastise him. “You used me. You disrespected me. You coaxed my feelings, hopes, and dreams out. You learned how I ticked, and you used me to your advantage. So, please tell me, Cooper,” his mouth slightly gaping, he draws in closer. “What the fuck do you have to say now?”

Cooper pushes me against the wall of the entrance gate, shielded by the trees. His hands attach to my waist with force. Our foreheads together, our lips begging to touch. He licks his lips, never looking away from my eyes. “I… I'm sorry. Honey, I’m so sorry.” He grapples onto my body, holding me close. Pressed firmly against him I shutter. I shake my head, my thoughts fighting against the moment. “Cooper, we, we can’t. Your wife-“

“I love you.”

Cooper stares at me with overflowing eyes. So much pent-up emotion and passion was threatening to release. He breathes me in, trailing his nose up my neck, “I love you, (y/n).” Our lips hover over each other. I hold every restraint I can. I sigh in disbelief, I want it to be true, I’ve dreamed of this. Hearing those words spoken from his mouth. “I love you.” He says it again, almost in realization. He stares into my soul, allowing his to reach in and cradle my lonely heart. He massages my waist, a choked breath leaving his body, “say something, darlin’.”

I bring my hands to his chest, clawing at his shirt. “Coop, you’re married.” He shakes his head, “I’ll leave.” I scoff, “you said that before.” He holds my cheek with one hand, his other wrapped securely around my waist. “I will, I promise. I… I can’t lose you. Fuck if I lose everything else, I won’t lose you.”

He leans in with force, sealing our lips together. this moment it feels like fate. His hands move from my waist to the sides of my face, cradling my cheeks with surprising gentleness. The kiss is passionate, tender, everything I wanted. Our hands roaming across each other, he pushes me deeper into the metal gate. I moan out, shaking for him.

“(Y/n)?” I jump back at Louis’ voice. He’s walking down the driveway looking left and right. I move to leave, but Cooper pulls me back. Hands still on my cheek he nuzzled our noses together. “(Y/n), please, give me time.”

I smile, pulling him down once more, “I would wait 200 hundred years to love you, Cooper Howard.” His charming smile lights up the night. I slip away from him and catch up with Louis as he slips into the car. “Where did you run off to?” I watch the tree line near the gate, Cooper stands, hand sun his pants pockets as he watches me. “Just to get some air.”

[avastrasposts]

Not An Easy Man To Find

Hello!

🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈This my contribution to @romanarose Pride Event 🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈

It's the result of one of those "what if?" conversations that sometimes happen. I've never written m/m and I was curious to see if I could come up with a language to get across feelings and emotions between two characters that I love very much and still remain true to them. What would they express if they find themselves in a situation where they no longer need to deny the tension and attraction between them?

A/N - set after the events of Triple Frontier, mild spice, nothing too explicit.

The house was small, more of a cabin really, and set back from the small country road, right at the end of a narrow lane. The thick forest around the building had been cleared and the approach to the house was exposed. The second the man set foot on the property, flood lights lit up the yard. Even in the heavy rain he could see the cameras mounted on the porch, one aimed at the drive, the other at the front door. 

Frankie saw the lights go on in his yard, and he immediately reached for the gun on the coffee table but he remained on the couch, the book he was reading now face down beside him. Most likely it was just an animal crossing the yard, alarms wouldn't go off until someone tried to force entry. He waited for the lights to go off again, the knock on the door almost made him jump. Quietly he got up from the couch, moved through the house to the hallway and tapped the screen mounted on the wall. The man on the other side of the door was soaked through by the rain underneath his cap and he gave the camera a nod as if he knew Frankie was watching him. 

He should know Frankie was watching him. After all, he taught him how to set up the system. 

Pope heard the door unlock and couldn’t repress the smile creeping up as it swung open. 

“You’re not an easy man to find, Fish.” 

“Pendejo, where the fuck have you been?!” 

Frankie tossed Pope a towel after he peeled off his wet jacket, leaving it dripping onto the floor of the small hallway. The door was closed again, locked and bolted, and Pope nodded approvingly at the security system his friend had set up.  

“How did you find me?” Frankie asked as Pope toweled his wet hair, following him into the kitchen, “I’ve been staying off the radar as much as possible, Will told me a couple of guys came after you?” 

“Yeah, some of Lorea’s men. I got rid of them and I had to move location again. But Will had a hunch about where you might be so I checked it out and one thing led to another.” 

He hung the towel over a chair and sat down on one of the stools by the kitchen island as Frankie leaned against the counter. 

“Do I need to worry that someone else might find me that way?” he asked, raising his eyebrows but Pope shook his head.

“No, you’re good, Fish, I found you because I know you. How have you been?” 

“Shit.” 

Frankie spat the word, his eyebrows pulling together as he rubbed a large hand over his face. 

“Like absolute shit. I’m not sleeping, Tom’s death…it’s still….”

“Yeah, I know,” Pope said, “the nightmares have been brutal.”

“I keep reliving that fucking moment up on those rocks, when Tom…”

Frankie trailed off and Pope nodded. 

“Yeah, Tom, the heli crashing, Will getting shot, that fucking donkey…I have nightmares about that fucking donkey, you go over with it too, Fish, I keep dreaming the same sequence, seeing you tumble over the side, pulled down by it.” 

Pope glanced over at Frankie who was shaking his head with his eyes closed as if he was trying to shut something out.

“Don’t….” Frankie muttered, meeting Pope’s dark gaze. 

The two men fell silent for a few moments, eyes locked on each other,  the rain hammering against the shutters and a low rumble of thunder in the distance. Something made the lights flicker and Pope broke the stalemate, glancing up at the ceiling. 

“I’ve got a backup generator,” Frankie said, “and extra fuel. The power goes out pretty often when trees fall on the power lines.”

Pope nodded, “Always prepared, Fish.”

Frankie shrugged in response, seemingly waiting for the other man to say something else. Pope could feel the tension building in the small kitchen and he couldn’t face it, even if he was the only one who felt it. 

“You got a beer?” He motioned to the fridge but Frankie shook his head. 

“No, I’ve been staying sober, on all accounts, since we got back. I…I lost custody of the kids, after the divorce.” 

“I heard, man, I’m sorry. That’s fucked up,” Pope shook his head as Frankie shrugged again. 

“Shit was bad when I got home, she’d changed the locks, tossed my things, got the divorce papers ready. And I went on a bender, totalled the truck and then the court awarded her full custody,” Frankie shook his head, glancing down at his feet, “Can’t blame ‘em, and it was probably for the best. Some people were sniffing around the house a few months later but I’d already moved away. At least this way she and the kids aren’t in any danger.”

Frankie looked up at Pope, still damp, his shirt clinging to his shoulders as he leaned on his forearms on the wood countertop. His friend’s dark eyes looked apologetic as he listened to Frankie.

“Could’ve used your help, Pope.”  

“Fuck, Frankie, I’m sorry. I only just heard from Will that you got divorced, if I’d known I would’ve helped out, you know.”

“Yeah, well…” Frankie said, “It was my mess, I guess I had to deal with it.” 

“Yeah, but Fish, you’re family. Will and Benny have each other, Tom always had Molly and the girls, and then it’s you and me,” Pope said, getting off the stool and coming around to lean against the opposite counter, giving Frankie’s shoulder a clap. Frankie gave him a dismissive snort. 

“We’re family but you’ve stayed away for two years? Living off what’s her name's money? Not even a word to confirm that you were still alive?” 

“That…that didn’t work out,” Pope said, hesitating a little, “Turned out she wasn’t that interested when I’d already gotten her and her brother out of the country. And I always…” Pope trailed off and shrugged. He seemed to consider his next words, meeting Frankie’s questioning look for a few heartbeats before he continued, “Yeah…it didn’t work out. I came back to the States about eighteen months ago.”

Frankie’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline at Pope’s answer. 

“Eighteen months ago? And you only just now got in touch? What the fuck, Pope?” 

“Like I said, you’re not an easy man to find, Fish.” 

“Bullshit, Will always knew how to find me, I made sure, you just didn’t bother.” 

Frankie crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Pope who just shook his head, but still met his gaze. 

“I thought you were still married, Frankie, you had your own family. I didn’t wanna crash that.” 

“Still, could’ve used your help, even if I wasn’t divorced. If you really mean we’re family and-” 

“It was too hard, Frankie, you know that,” Pope interrupted, pushing himself off the counter and taking a step towards Frankie who stared back at him. Pope shoved a frustrated hand through his hair, “Seeing you with her, the kids, happy family life. You must’ve known how I felt, seeing you run back to her the second we were done in Columbia.” 

“Pope…” Frankie said in a low voice, his eyes dropping to his boots as his fingers twitched, he looked ready to crawl out of his skin. 

But Pope ignored him, tension dripping off him as he paced the small kitchen, “You know, right, Fish? This has always been here, this,” He pointed between the two of them, almost poking Frankie’s chest as he stopped by the counter again. “This…this friction, you and me, and now…you always just stand there and say nothing.” Pope shoved his hand through his hair again and slumped back against the counter, “Frankie, half the time I don’t know if I want to hit your or fuck you.”

Frankie suddenly exploded into action, two long strides and his fists grabbed Pope’s shirts, slamming their bodies together as his mouth found Pope’s. Pope grunted in surprise and took hold of Frankie’s sides as he stumbled back with the force of the other man’s kiss. Teeth and lips clashed as Frankie pulled Pope closer, tongues meeting and Frankie groaned, tasting rainwater on Pope’s lips. Pope wound his arms around Frankie’s waist and up his back, grabbing the shirt and pushing the other man into him as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Panted breathes filled the silent kitchen, a low moan from Pope as Frankie wrapped his hand around the back of his head. 

“I fucking missed you,” Pope mumbled, still pressed against the other man’s lips, and Frankie’s soft tongue came out to taste Pope again. A mouthed fuck and Pope’s hand slid down and grabbed Frankie’s hip, his touch going soft as he let himself feel the outlines of his body properly for the first time. 

“How long?” Frankie asked, his voice low as he pulled back a little, meeting Pope’s eyes. 

“Since basic, I guess. But I denied it for years.” 

“Yeah,” Frankie breathed out, barely a whisper, his eyes on Pope’s mouth. Pope tightened his grip on Frankie’s hip again and pulled his friend close, the kiss softer, less rushed. Frankie’s body was tense under his grip, uncertain as he shifted his weight and opened his mouth to Pope’s tongue. Pope moved slowly, feeling his way around Frankie’s stiff muscles, caressing his back, leading the kisses as the other man slowly began to relax. 

When Frankie groaned into his mouth and pushed forward, almost bending Pope backwards over the counter, Pope took hold of Frankie’s hips again and pulled him along. Leading him backwards into the living room. When the back of his knees hit the couch, he sank down and Frankie toppled over, on top, his long body covering Pope’s, legs tangled together. 

A moan escaped Frankie when he felt the hard length of the other man against his thigh and he rolled his hips, seeking friction for himself, his body reacting faster than his mind, the primal urge to rut into the warm body underneath him almost taking over. Pope’s mouth was warm, heavy breaths panted into his own, as he squeezed his eyes shut. Pope’s hands were caressing his back, trailing down over his ass, grabbing and pressing them together, calloused fingers sliding inside his jeans and Frankie froze, pulling back an inch, panic flaring up in his throat. 

Pope’s dark eyes met his as Frankie pushed himself up, hovering over Pope on his forearms, not meeting his friend's look.  

“Have you done this before, Frankie?” he asked, his voice slightly breathless from the kisses, but calm, and Frankie wanted just to bury his face against Pope’s warm, flustered, neck, hide his face and not show the intensity he felt was written across it.

“Just a hookup, when I was drunk,” he mumbled in response, his hands suddenly felt too big, he didn’t know where to put them when all that was under him was Santiago. He shifted uneasily.  

“Cálmate, Francisco,” Pope mumbled, cupping his hand around Frankie’s head, his fingers finding damp, soft curls, “Relax.” 

Frankie nodded and dropped his head to Pope’s chest, exhaling deeply. The steady heartbeat under the shirt told him his friend was still calm, hadn’t lost his cool, wasn’t rushing into anything. Warm hands resumed their movements up and down his back but now they were slow, and didn’t touch his skin. He felt his nerves calm, this was just Santiago, Pope, his oldest friend, who knew the darkest things he’d done because he was right next to him when it all went down. If anyone would understand, could reach inside and soothe the panic in his chest, it was this man. 

He lifted his head from Pope’s chest and cupped his cheek, a slow, uncertain movement, running his thumb across the thick beard, shot through with more gray now than last time. The sensation was unfamiliar to his fingers, not used to touching him in this way, the texture of the beard different from his own scruffy patches. Pope parted his lips as Frankie’s thumb traced across them, pausing briefly to press into the bottom lip. Frankie watched as the soft skin gave in under his thumb, making Pope part his lips more. When he leaned forward and gave an experimental lick to the pink bottom lip, Pope hummed under him, his hands stilling on Frankie’s back. He let Frankie lead the way, taking it at his pace, meeting his tongue as Frankie opened his mouth and licked into Pope’s. 

This time it was Frankie who reached for Pope’s skin, sliding a hand in under his shirt, not even thinking about what he was doing, just needing to feel more. Pope shifted under him, letting the buttons come undone and the shirt slid open. The palms that skated across his skin were calloused and familiar, but never in this way, never with this soft touch, followed by a hot mouth and tongue lapping at his skin. 

He could help himself, “Frankie,” he moaned, the roll of Frankie’s hips grinding against his own hard length clouding his mind, “Frankie, are you sure?” 

A muffled Yes and a nod came from Frankie, his tongue exploring Pope’s skin with increasing fervor. When his hand cupped the hard length straining against the fabric of his jeans, Pope’s breath hitched and he groaned loudly. It egged Frankie on, suddenly he felt a desperate need rise inside him and he grabbed Pope’s hand, dragging him off the couch. 

“Bedroom,” he muttered, tugging the other man with him, the two of them stumbling the short distance to the small bedroom at the back of the cabin. 

Pope grabbed Frankie’s shirt and pulled it off, shrugging his own shirt on to the floor, and then Frankie’s hands were skimming up and down his sides as they climbed onto the bed, buttons being undone, jeans discarded. It wasn’t the first time they’d been naked in front of each other, far from it, but the new situation gave them cause to look at the other man in another way. Pope took in the trail of dark hair on Frankie’s soft belly, leading down to his achingly hard cock. Frankie couldn’t just look, his hand came out and closed around Pope’s stiff length, making him huff a strangled Frankie before he pulled him down over him. 

After, when their bodies were slick with sweat and the room reeked of cum, Pope cupped his hands around Frankie’s scruffy cheeks and kissed him firmly, holding the other man tight as their heart beats slowed down. 

“I should’ve come back much sooner, Francisco,” he mumbled, when he finally broke the kiss. 

“Should’ve done this much sooner,” Frankie muttered in reply, his hands wrapped around Pope’s shoulders, sharing his breath and still tasting the salty tang of his own spend on Pope’s lips. 

Pope nodded and closed his eyes, leaning back on the pillow with his fingers tangled in Frankie’s soft curls. He'd never known Frankie's hair was so soft, but he’d often thought about curling his fingers around the tufts that always stuck out from underneath that damn cap. Now he slowly ran his fingers through them, still damp from their exertion.

Frankie shifted his weight, resting his head against Pope’s shoulder, his leg hooked over the other man’s thigh. When the air in the room cooled, he reached over and tugged the comforter over both of them, rousing Pope from his light sleep. He shifted down, pulling Frankie into arms so that he could look him in the eyes. 

“What now, Francisco?” he asked, his voice already thick with sleep, and Frankie kissed him. The soft lips and rough voice now his to claim. 

“Nothing, just this, Santiago,” Frankie replied, “We sleep, we wake up, and then just this.” 

Tagging the lovely people who were excited to read this when I blabbed about writing it. @legendary-pink-dot @lady-bess @nerdieforpedro @i-own-loki @mysterious-moonstruck-musings and last but not least @for-a-longlongtime for beta reading and being incredibly supportive! Love you all!

[hannahssimblr]

I wake up gasping, tearing the sleeping bag off me as the sun beats right through the nylon walls of the tent. 

“Jesus christ.” I mutter, freeing my arms and legs. Jen grumbles in her half-sleep. “Shush.” 

“It’s hot. Are you hot?”

“No.”

“God.” 

From here, the thud of the main stage in full swing again is clear, as is the noise, the voices, the feet that shuffle by our tent, and the birds that make a racket in the trees. 

I’m so thirsty. 

I rifle through Jen’s bag for a bottle of water and find one. It’s hot, just like everything in this tent, and drinking it is like gulping bathwater. My head thumps with a violent hangover. 

“So you agree with her?” Comes a voice from just outside. I cease my shuffling to listen. 

“Maybe, Evie,” Claire sighs. “Why? Do you still fancy him?”

There’s a pause. “I dunno.”

“Well, do you think there’s a chance he’d feel the same?”

“I dunno that, either.”

I have no right to overhear this. So, with graceless haste, I yank open the zip door and spill out onto the ground at their feet. Claire and Evie stare in alarm. Bread rolls halfway to their mouths. 

I knead my fists into sensitive eyes. “What are you guys eating?”

“Brioche,” says Claire.

“Is there enough for me too?”

She tosses a packet in my vague direction, but it lands far enough away that I need to get up. I notice which parts of my body ache as I trudge to it, the bruises on my skin from yesterday’s mosh pits. I glance at Evie quickly, to stake out the vibe, and find her looking intently at her lap. 

I expected her to be awkward, to not know how to conduct herself, but I didn’t anticipate the feelings that arise in me. The minute I see her face, I am hit with a wave of shame and regret that has me fighting back a wince. I don’t understand it. Once again, my own emotions are a frustrating mystery to me, like my body and my brain are speaking different languages. It was just a kiss. It’s fine, for christ’s sake, it’s- 

Even the thought of it makes my palms sweat. 

“Such a good shout, brioche,” I say, and amble over to a chair very far away from Evie. I concentrate on getting the bread out of the packet, and not the strange frisson between us. 

“Are you forgetting something?” Claire says, just as I take a bite, and I freeze. Am I forgetting what, exactly? A public acknowledgement that I was fully tongue kissing her friend last night? An apology for it?

She smiles at me expectantly. Then with relief, I remember. 

“Oh, it’s your eighteenth. Happy birthday!”

She wiggles her shoulders and kicks her feet in a goofy dance of excitement, and I cross the circle to hug her and give her a quick kiss on the cheek. I feel Evie’s eyes on me, but I don’t meet them. 

And I continue to avoid them, for an hour at least, idly chewing on brioche until eventually she mutters something about needing to put her makeup on, and crawls into her tent to hide. 

 In her absence, my brain keeps meandering back to her. No matter how much I think about the bread I’m eating, or that I need to brush my teeth, it comes back to Evie again. I stamp these thoughts down, hard, before they reach the surface, and the guilt I ought to feel about last night overcomes me. They come, as all the worst ones do, in the voice of my father. Why exactly did you let that happen? How stupid are you? Is this it now? Do you realise what you might have done? This girl-

“Good brioche,” I say to Claire, though it’s not particularly good at all. 

“It’s from Aldi.” 

“Aldi did it again.”

“Hm? Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“Aldi-” I break off and sigh. “Never mind.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I have my first drink early that day. I grab a bottle from the little stash in my bag during my retreat to the tent to change my t-shirt and put on yesterday’s shorts. When I reemerge, Kasper and Joe cheer, as though drinking before noon is inspirational to them.

“Hair of the Dog, right?” I say as I join them on the grass.

“Where? In the bottle, like?” Says Joe. 

I roll my eyes. 

Jen leans over the arm of her fold-up chair. “I still need to talk to you.” She says, and I sigh with irritation. “About what?”

Her eyes dart towards Evie, sitting quietly between Claire and Shane. “The situation.”

I’ve been here a hundred times before, and it’s typical of her to want all the irrelevant details, like where I put my hands, where Evie put hers, how long we kissed, exactly, and whether I tilted my head to the left or the right, or switched it up. Though I’d usually find her thirst for knowledge amusing, today it is less than thrilling. 

“Later,” I insist. 

“Well, I’m going to go to that Fight Like Apes gig at twelve, so maybe we could walk together.”

“Yeah, I dunno.” I nudge Joe, who has his festival schedule unrolled on the scorched grass. “What are you up to today?”

“Going to this,” he informs me, prodding his finger into some DJ’s name, and I nod vaguely.

“I’ll come too.” 

“You will?”

“Yeah.” 

“Jude,” Jen frowns. “You wanted to see Fight Like Apes. You were saying it in the car on the way here.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Okay, but I still want to talk-”

“Can I not change my mind?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“It’s just that I need time by myself today.”

Her face flashes with hurt. “Right.”

“No offence, Jen, I’m just not in the headspace, okay? I’ll tell you everything you want to know when we get home.” 

“Like, it’s fine, I’m just-”

“Good.”

“It’s-”

“Enough.”

“Suit yourself.” She huffs, settles back into her chair, and turns her back to me.

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[sunnybeewriting]

peachy keen. Part Four

Hi guys!! I’m sorry for the wait! The next few chapters will be MASSIVE if I don’t split them up! And the plot is about to pick up for sure. Thank you all so, so much for all your encouragement and likes and comments, they make me so, so happy. And trust me things will spice up I promise 😈😈! 🥹 I love you guys, you are all the best!! Peachy Keen, Part Four 🍑✨

WORDS: 5,921

WARNINGS: NONE

“Ni-hona.”

The word coming from Quaritch's mouth is jumbled and slow as he struggles to pronounce it. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his hand waving in front of him in the correct gesture as he tries to speak.

“No, no, not ni-hona, nìhona.” You speak slowly, making sure to pronounce the syllables correctly. Your mouth twitches as you struggle not to smile. Really, it’s just ridiculous how charming this guy can be when he’s frustrated.

Quaritch’s scowl deepens as you correct him, but he begrudgingly repeats your speech pattern.

“Nìhona.”

You beam and clap your hands together twice in front of you, pride filling your chest. “Yes! It can be a little tricky to remember, but once you practice a little bit, you’ll be saying it in your sleep!”

Quaritch sits up straighter, and you definitely aren’t imagining the way his chest puffs out a little bit at your praise. His mouth quirks up slightly at the corners at your elated reaction.

“Honestly, I’m pretty surprised you got it so fast. I know it took me at least two weeks to learn what you learned in one week.” It isn't a lie. Quaritch had taken off with your lessons much faster than you could have ever expected, soaking up everything Na’vi related like an eager sponge. It was impressive, to say the least.

He snorts softly, crossing his massive arms over his chest. “What, you thought I wouldn’t be able to do it? This shit is easy as hell.”

This time you can’t help your giggle, and you aren’t imagining the way his golden eyes soften just a bit.

It’s a beautiful day as you sit across from one another in the courtyard, so close your knees almost brush together. The daylight is warm against your skin and dark hair, and it lights up Quaritch in front of you. It would be the perfect day if you could hear the sounds of insects and the breeze of trees around you, but the only thing you can hear is the constant cacophony of construction and hexbots at work in the distance. Even with that all that noise, there is almost nothing that could ruin your mood right now.

It's been two days since your conversation on the stairs, and you’d been so relieved when you’d met up the morning afterward and everything between you felt…surprisingly normal. You’d been worried that it would feel uncomfortable, or that something would have changed in how he interacted with you. To your relief, Quaritch had simply greeted you with his usual scowl before kicking your ass again.

You were just glad that your emotional moment with him hadn’t seemed to change anything.

You sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, simply soaking in his presence. Your lesson time for the morning ended about fifteen minutes ago, but you just don’t want to leave yet. It seems Quaritch feels the same way, as he makes no move to get up. In fact, this is probably the longest time you’ve spent with him in silence.

It was nice to just be with someone, with no expectations or small talk.

Eventually, Quaritch shifts to stand, long legs pulling out from his seat on the floor to push himself up. You look up from your place on the ground to watch him rise, not even bothering to look away as he catches your gaze.

When he offers you a hand up, you grasp it without hesitation. He pulls you to your feet much more gently than in the past, and your hands linger together for a brief moment before you simultaneously let go.

That’s the one thing you've noticed that seems to have changed since the stairs. He's more gentle with his words and with his hits, less mean almost. He grabs things for you, and when you walk together he hovers a hand above the small of your back. He's almost hesitant to meet your eyes sometimes. It's a stark contrast to how he acted to you in the beginning, but you couldn't say you minded at all. In fact, his behavior now never failed to make your face burn and butterflies explode in your stomach. 

 “Well, Peach, this has been fun, but I got a meeting with my team in thirty. Those assholes are probably already loosin’ their minds waitin’. Jackasses can’t do shit without me.” He sneers, rolling his eyes derisively. 

You snicker. Quaritch definitely has an ego, but from the way you’ve seen his team hang onto his every word and order, he probably isn’t too far off the mark with that statement.

Quaritch grins briefly at your laugh, sharp fangs peeking out slightly. Even though you have your own set of sharp teeth now, seeing his never fails to make your stomach jolt. 

“Sounds about right, sir. Same time tomorrow?”

Quaritch falters so briefly that you wonder if you're imagining it. He opens his mouth slightly, as if to speak, before something flashes over his face and he closes it. His eyes move between yours and his tail flicks unsteadily behind him.

“Yeah, sweetheart. And make sure your scrawny ass isn’t late this time, alright? I don’t have all day to wait on you. I am actually important around here, you know.”

Your lips twitch, but you manage not to smile. You contort your face into something semi-serious, but your eyes and voice are clearly amused.

“Yes, sir!”

Quaritch rolls his eyes, his own mouth twitching. His long arm reaches across the distance between your bodies and he presses his hand briefly against the bare skin of your upper arm. The training you’ve been doing together has put some faint callouses on his hands, and they rub tenderly against your skin as he strokes a quick path. He does it quickly, as though it’s an action he doesn’t even realize he’s doing.

You’ve been in close proximity for months, training and talking and almost kissing, but your heart still races in your chest every time you touch. It’s embarrassing, really, the effect he has on you.

You gaze at each other for another long moment before he releases you and turns around.

You blow out a quiet breath as you watch him walk away and out of the yard, appreciating the view as you always do. At least this time you don’t have anything sharp in your hands. Just thinking about it makes your hand sting, even though the cut has long since healed.

You wander back to the Avatar sleeping center, taking your time and enjoying the light of the day. You certainly don't have much of anything to do once you are linked back into your human body.

Soon enough, though, you make it to the center. After you link back, you simply lay in the pod for a moment, staring up at the warm yellow lighting. You just can’t seem to get your body to move. 

Eventually, you’re able to find the motivation to rise from your position and open the pod. You swing your legs over the side and sit there for another minute, blearily rubbing your fists against your eyes to clear them. Your mouth feels a little fuzzy and your head has begun to throb sharply at your temples, but all in all, you feel fairly energetic. It’s much better than you felt when you first began linking.

You stand on your feet, turning this way and that to stretch out your lethargic muscles. Your stomach begins to growl hungrily, so you drearily make your way to the doors of the center just as Miss Hall strides through.

Her red hair is in its usual severe bun, slicked back and not a hair out of place. Everything about her looks as it usually does, but it’s her quick pace and the pleased expression on her face that takes you off guard.

“Nice morning, isn’t it, Miss Hall? How’s it going with-” you pause when Miss Hall’s head jerks toward you and an uncharacteristically enthusiastic smile appears on her face. In the time you’ve known her, you’ve never seen such a happy look from her before. It’s enough to make you hesitate in the doorway, startled. When the smile doesn’t fade from her mouth, something clicks in your mind and realization floods your body.

Is it…?

Your heart leaps into your throat when she answers your unasked question by nodding her head.

Ohmygod it’s time!

You quickly cover the remaining distance from her in a few brief seconds so you can either clap her shoulder, pull her into a hug, or do a celebratory dance. You aren’t even sure. Just as you’re lifting your arms to apparently pull her into a hug, she coughs and shoves her arm in between your bodies for a handshake.

Oh, right. Woops.

You lower your arms and stay a few feet away, respecting her choice for less physical contact. That didn’t stop you from squeezing her hand and giving it ten pumps up and down though.

“They actually agreed to let us head out? All of us? How far do we-?”

“We are allowed a maximum distance of ten miles from the tree line of the Kill Zone-"

You squeal and clap your hands, interrupting her sentence, but you just can’t help it.

“But only ten miles, no more, do you understand?” She gives you a stern look as she speaks. 

You nod your head franticly. Ten miles past the Kill Zone was so much further than you ever expected the RDA to allow your little group of newbies to head out on their first trip into the wilderness of Pandora. But you certainly weren’t fucking complaining! It's a dream come true, being able to travel that far so soon, and you are not going to ruin it.

You had spent the past two months developing the muscular tone and reflexes of your Avatar so you would be ready for the large amount of physical activity wandering around Pandora would require. Learning to fight from Quaritch of all people had undoubtedly helped in that goal; your Avatar had much better strength and speed now. 

And you wonder if this is what Quaritch felt like all the time, fast and powerful, so much bigger and better than everyone around him. If so, it’s no wonder he’s kind of a bully; sometimes even you got a little cocky with your newfound physical prowess, and you aren’t even half the asshole Quaritch liked to be sometimes.  

“Okay, okay, when do we leave?”

Tomorrow, tomorrow, say tomorrow!

“We’ll head out tomorrow morning, all five members of the second division.”

I might literally shit my pants right now.

Your mind races, your heart furiously pumping to keep up with all the exhilaration now surging through your blood and into your brain. You’re going to have to shower, have to pack, have to prepare the equipment that’ll come along, have to tell the group-

You gasp, lurching up from the chair you hadn't even realized you had drifted into, too consumed with your wild thoughts.

“I’ll go tell the group!” you almost shout, already halfway out the door before Miss Hall can even respond.

They’re going to be so excited!

If you had been bored to tears these last few months, Emma, James, Margot, and even David were all absolutely crazed by monotony at this point. With no Quaritch to lighten up their day, they’ve fallen into the same old routine of grey walls and mindlessly studying things they already reviewed years ago.

You race down the hallways. You bump into a few people but don't slow down to apologize properly, instead shouting a haphazard, “Sorry!” back at them as you continue on your way.

You turn a corner a few hallways from the break room too fast, and you crash face-first into the side of someone’s hard leg.

You bounce right off them, face throbbing angrily. You would have landed on your ass if a giant hand hadn’t shot out and grabbed your shoulder before you could fully tilt backward.

“Jesus Peach, where the hell you runnin’ off to so fast?”

You gasp lightly, lifting your wide eyes up, up, up until you meet Quaritch questioning golden ones.

You beam up at him, too buzzed to feel embarrassed about running into him like an excited toddler. He raises his eyebrow as he takes in your thrilled face, clearly curious as to what was tickling you. You're about to deliver the news when your eyes trail down his chest and you freeze.

There, against his green tank top and resting by his silver dog tags, is your pendant.

You stare at it, stunned. All thoughts of Pandora dissolve in your brain like mist. You barely refrain from gasping again.

While he had accepted your gift and hadn’t laughed straight in your face like you thought he might, you never actually believed he would wear something you had made, something so clearly sentimental.

Quaritch follows your startled eye line to his chest, blinking when he sees you gaping at the pendant. He raises his eyebrow questioningly again, scoffing while crossing his arms over his chest.

“What, Peach? You thought I wasn’t gonna wear it?” He sneers, looking almost defensive.

You stutter, mind struggling to catch up with everything that's happening. “W-Well, you just weren’t wearing it the past two days, sir. I just figured…”

He rolls his eyes derisively. “I needed to find a chain to put it on. Took me a few days.” He smirks at you. “Just couldn’t wait to see me wearin’ it, huh?”

You color a bit, lips thinning, but you refuse to rise to his teasing bait. You lean back and cross your own arms over your chest to match his stance. “No, sir, I’m just glad to see you liked it, that’s all.”

“Well, you made it, so. Anyway, what the hell has you running around here like your ass is on fire?" 

Your eyes soften as your limbs practically melt into the floor at his words. He was wearing it just because you made it?

You clear your throat, attempting to move onto Pandora and not focus on his surprisingly tender words. Even as you do, the sweet feeling of affection for Quaritch doesn’t leave, instead nesting deep and gently into your heart and bones. “Uh, Amanda said our group is now cleared by the higher-ups for fieldwork. My group and I leave tomorrow morning.”  

You snatch up Quaritch’s right hand resting by his side, the excitement of the news once again making its way through your veins and rejuvenating you. It takes both your hands to hold one of his, and even then they still look teeny tiny by his own massive one. You squeeze it as tightly as you can, which probably feels like nothing to him.

“Isn’t it amazing? We’ve been waiting months for this, not to mention the years we’ve been training and prepping, and I-” Your voice had been getting higher and higher as your excitement explodes like fireworks in your blood, and you drop his hand just as quickly as you had grabbed it to start clapping your hands together. You’re just about to start jumping up and down when Quaritch places an enormous hand on your shoulder to keep you still and interrupts you.

“You mean to tell me they already cleared your little group of pussycats for Pandora? Jesus, you think your team is really ready for that?” Despite his harsh words, the grip on your shoulder is gentle. He doesn’t look angry per se, more disbelieving and annoyed than anything.

Your childish excitement falters, your smile dropping a bit when you realize he has a point. You’ve struggled with remembering that Pandora isn’t a joke or something you can just waltz into half-cocked and hoping for the best. You were always too focused on the beautiful scientific possibilities, and you often forget just what Pandora really is; an unknown, hostile environment that will kill you if you let down your guard. Like Quaritch had said when you had first met him, Pandora would eat you alive if you weren’t careful.

You breathe in deeply, squaring your shoulders as your heart rate begins to calm. You’re still beyond thrilled about this, but Quaritch is right. This is not the time for you to slip off into your head like you usually do when you start overthinking things.

If you weren’t alert, focused, and mature about this, something awful could happen to you or to your friends, just because you were off galivanting around the forest. If someone you cared about got hurt because you were too distracted by pretty flowers, you would never forgive yourself. And with that thought in your head, you feel a spark of fear tighten your gut.

You swallow. “I - I know. But I really think that we’re ready for this, and it won’t be for more than a few hours-”

“I know you, Peach, and whether it’s for a minute or an hour, you like to get lost in that pretty lil’ head of yours and not pay attention.”

You wince, conceding. “I know, I know, but I will focus when I’m out there and I’ll do my job. This is what I came here for, what I’ve studied for. We’ll be in and out, just like that.”

You reach out hesitantly and slowly grab onto his hand once again. Your gentle touch seems to calm him a little bit, and his eyes lock onto yours. Your sure to any passerbys that your height difference must look extremely comical as you stand across from one another, but you don’t break eye contact to see if anyone’s looking.

“I’ll be okay, Quaritch. I promise I’ll pay attention and listen to every order. I’ll be back before you know it.”

The tension that had suddenly gripped him seems to flee him as quickly as it appeared. You’re about to relinquish your grip on his hand just as he tightens his gently. He squeezes your hand, clearly making sure to be careful with your fragile limb.

Something flashes across his face, gone before you can determine what it is. Determination, perhaps? Resolution? Whatever it is, you’re just glad he had pulled your head from your ass and given you the facts straight. If there was one thing you could rely on Quaritch to do, it was to give no bullshit.

“I’ll you in two days, Quaritch. I’ll be back before you know it!” You grin, trying to sound convincing. You’re not sure if it’s for him or for you.

You slowly let go of his hand again, giving it one last soft squeeze. You peer up at him as best you can at your height. Eventually, Quaritch nods once, a distant expression on his face. He takes a step back, putting some distance between you as he speaks.

“Guess I’ll see you soon, Peach.”

Your mouth twitches upward. “See you soon, sir.”

Quaritch nods one last time before he swiftly moves around you and continues on his path. You turn to watch him go, brows furrowed at his seemingly sullen mood.

It really won’t be that long, you reason. We’ll be able to continue our lessons soon, he won’t miss that much time.

You wander back toward the break room where you know your team will be, thoughts of Quaritch soon replaced by nervous excitement as you imagine your group's reaction to the news. As you step through the doors, you hear the tail end of an irritated discussion.

“ -alright, and I’m just saying that if they wanted to, they would totally have us moving in that direction - oh hey, girl!” Margot breaks off her sentence once she notices you standing in the doorway. Her face brightens up, grin spreading across her face. You don’t blame her; two months spent with just David and the lovebirds for company has made you a little crazy, too.

“I was just telling these three about how - ” Margot’s sentence cuts off as she takes a full look at your face. Her smile drops a bit, eyes flickering over your expression. You have no idea what you look like; probably nervous, delighted. It has to be a very strange look.

“What’s wrong, sugar? You look like you’re about to either pass out or dance, I can’t really tell. Why don’t you sit down-”

“We’ve been approved for Pandora.” Your words come out choked.

Everyone freezes, stunned. They gape at you from around the room. You’d all been expecting this, but it was one thing to wait for it and another thing entirely to have it happen. Just as you thought, your group is torn between the thrill of seeing Pandora in the flesh for the first time and the terror of being in a hostile environment.

The room sits in silence for a moment before Margot closes her mouth, swallows, and rasps, “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow, Miss Hall said.” You struggle to speak. Your mouth is dry from both excitement and dread.

They sit there for another moment, wrapping their minds around the news. Margot is the first to stand. She smiles, clearly enthusiastic, but her mouth is tight.

“Well. I guess we need to get packed, huh?”

------

When you make it back to your quarters that night, you spend at least two hours packing every single thing you think you might need in Pandora. You run around your room like a whirlwind, packing things into a bag and then unpacking them over and over again as you work yourself into a frenzy. Eventually, you send it off to be put in the center for when you link up. All the really important equipment is already in the Avatar center, but you still want to be prepared.

Your thoughts anxiously jump all over the place. Waiting for stressful situations has never been your strong suit.

You doze in and out of sleep restlessly, spending more time kicking off your covers and tossing and turning than you actually do resting. Blessedly, you’re able to grab a few hours of sleep once your mind stops running wild, but you know you’ll still be tired when your alarm clock goes off.

Once you wake up and the reality of the situation pumps energy through your veins, you get dressed and ready as fast as you can. Your fingers quiver slightly as you struggle to put on your tennis shoes.

You head down to the mess hall, squinting your eyes against the bright lights of the hallways. You snag a bagel and eat it as best you can, ignoring the way your stomach turns. By the time you eat it and make your way to the linking center, you’re practically sweating. Nerves are quickly making a complete mess of you.

Just as you enter through the doors, Margot leaps from her seat and hurtles her way toward you. You barely have time to open your arms before she’s crashing into you so hard that you take a step back, but you don’t hesitate even a second before wrapping your arms around her in turn.

You only hug her for less than five seconds, but by the time she releases her grip, you feel so, so much better. It feels like a sharp, heavy stone had been lifted off your chest and you can finally breathe. You hadn’t noticed how twisted your mood had turned, torn between excitement and fear.  

“Hey, girl.” Margot speaks in a rare, quiet voice. She looks how you feel; tired, thrilled, stressed. Her hair is slightly mussed and her face is a little pale, but you can’t imagine you look any better.

“Hey, Margot.” You give her as best of an encouraging smile as you can, even though it feels more like a grimace. She returns the look, and together you walk toward the table where the rest of the group is waiting.

Poor Emma looks like she’s a second away from puking, and James sits by her, rubbing a hand soothingly against her back. David is in the corner of the room, muttering to himself almost frantically as he obsessively wipes his glasses clean against his shirt.

You grimace at their state, but you feel a little glad that you aren’t the only one apprehensive about this trip. It’d be more worrisome if they weren’t acting like this, really. The last thing anyone needs is someone acting cocky and causing trouble on your first outing.

You take a seat just as Miss Hall comes through the doors, professionally put together as always. She scans the room in one quick glance, and once she realizes the whole team is here, she says,

“Alright, team. Let’s get started.”

You make sure to focus on the quick reminders, what the primary mission of your group is, and the process of the investigation. Your mind begs you to think about the future and everything that could go wrong, but you stubbornly keep your attention on the present.  

Three hours and many conversations later, it’s time to link up. You squeeze Margot’s hand one last time and share one last look before you shuffle over to the linking pod. It takes too many minutes to clear your frantic mind. Eventually, bright white and vibrant colors flash across your eyes, and then you’re waking up in the body of your Avatar.

You and the team get dressed in tense silence. Your clothes are different from the regular attire you wear around Bridgehead. Now you’re wearing dark green shorts and a beige crop top that is covered by a tan, long-sleeved open shirt made of thin fabric. Your long dark hair is pulled back and covered by a bandana. You wear shoes for once, sturdy boots and socks that will help you walk on the slick forest floor.

Most of the supplies for Pandora exploration stays in a separate part of the Avatar center, and for the first time since arriving on on this planet, you actually get to use it. Holotablets preloaded with specific data, vests, comm links, backpacks filled with equipment. Everything that could possibly be needed for exploration and data collection is here.

It’s a scientist’s wet dream.

You pack quickly, fussing and triple checking everything before it’s time to leave the center.

Your group makes its way across Bridgehead toward the utility aircraft section of the city. Your tail waves nervously behind you as you walk, and it almost hits a tiny passing military man as you wander too close into his personal space. He shouts at you, glaring, and you only spare him an apologetic glance and a squeaky shout of “Sorry!” before you keep walking. You don’t have time to do anything else.  

The loud noise of people and machines does nothing to calm your nerves, and your sensitive ears frantically flick with the amount of deafening pandemonium that assaults your senses.

It doesn’t get any better as you walk. When you reach the launching pads, the shrieking of the SA-2 Samson aircraft makes you want to cover your ears and cower. You’re grimacing fiercely as you walk closer to the pad, and you can see the rest of your group doing the same. When you see it waiting, the nerves return full force. Your stomach turns and a cold sweat breaks out across your skin.

Don’t puke, don’t puke, Jesus Christ.

“Get on!�� Miss Hall shouts as best she can over the howling. The other members go first, stepping up and into the large carrier. The whirring of the blades causes your hair to whip wildly over your face, blocking your view, and you try not trip on your feet as you pull yourself onto the craft after James. He turns around after he finds his footing again and gives you a hand up. Once you stand inside, you quickly take off your backpack and find a seat.

Miss Hall is the last one to climb in, hands full of the light, protective vests that are now required by the RDA. She hands them out to everyone and you grip yours tightly as you take it from her, knuckles white. You hold it your hands uncertaintly; you’d watched training videos on how to put the thing on and how to properly buckle it up, but now that you’re here your mind is going blank.

You shake your head in an effort to reorganize your thoughts, but the shrieking and the wind make it an almost impossible task. You sit up from your seat a bit to put the vest on over your shoulders.

Miss Hall finishes her conversation with the pilot and makes her way steadily over to your seats.

“Everyone ready?!” She shouts. Her eyes are a bright yellow, hair finally ruffled. She has a wide, encouraging smile on her face, and you distantly realize that this is the most genuine you’ve ever seen her.

She opens her grinning mouth to shout again before something seems to catch her attention. She looks out the open side of the carrier, eyebrows furrowing after a second. You follow her gaze, curious to see what made such an expression.

For a brief moment, you aren’t really sure if what you’re seeing is real.

Holy fucking shit! Is that Quaritch?!

Indeed, striding toward your aircraft, flanked by Z-Dog and Lopez, is Quaritch.

It feels as though someone has shocked you with a taser. You lurch up in your seat, gasping, eyes wide and mouth open as you stare at Quaritch’s intimidating form. Your heart thunders in your chest from both surprise and excitement.

Is he coming with us!?

The thought fills you with giddiness and you eagerly watch as he gets closer to the aircraft. As he nears you can see his hard and serious expression, as well as his new getup. He’s wearing dark green army vest covered in pockets, the thick straps resting against his broad shoulders. A black comm link that matches your own is around his throat. He holds a massive gun strapped across his chest next to his usual breathing mask. He walks like he owns Bridgehead, sneer firmly in place as he towers over even his team members. From this angle you can see his blue skin glowing in the daylight and his tail flicking irritably behind him.

You don’t realize you’re gawking at him until your mouth begins to dry. You snap it closed, suddenly breathless.

Soon enough, a large blue hand wraps around the opening to the carrier and Quaritch’s massive body lifts itself through. Your seat is right next to the large opening, so when Quaritch enters his shoulder brushes against the bare skin of your knees as he pulls himself up.

You're out of your seat before you realize it, hand reaching out to grab onto Quaritch’s massive bicep. He jerks a little bit when he realizes he’s being touched, glower firmly on his face when he turns to see who’s doing the touching. His expression settles when he realizes it’s you, face brightening as his sneer turns into a mocking smirk at your shocked face.

“What the hell are you doing here!?” You shout over the engine and wind, leaning close until your face is right next to his shoulder. You almost have to press your body to his so he can hear you. He leans down over you, putting his face close to yours as he shouts back. His golden eyes lock onto yours.

“What, Peach, you think I was going to let your scrawny ass get yourself killed out there!? God knows you wouldn’t last a second in Pandora without me watching your dumbass! What would everyone think if someone I was training died on their first time out?”

You beam at him, too happy to care about his slightly insulting words. “You have no idea how glad I am that you’re here!” You shout as loudly as you can.

He seems briefly surprised by your joy before his smirk turns cocky. “I bet you are, Peach!”

You scoff and daringly wack him lightly on the arm just as Z-Dog and Lopez pull themselves into the carrier. Z-Dog raises an eyebrow at Quaritch’s close position to you, her smirk growing mocking as she pops her bright pink bubblegum. Her expression schools itself into something more neutral when Quaritch turns to shout instructions at her, but you can still see the amusement in her eyes. Lopez remains silent beside her, hands holding his gun close to his chest. He nods when you make eye contact with him.

They turn to take a seat near your group, eyeing your team members distastefully. It seems like Quaritch wasn’t the only Recom member who dislikes scientists.

You grip Quaritch’s forearm and lead him toward the empty seat next to yours. You push your backpack off to the side to make room for your feet and take a seat. Quaritch places himself next to you, close enough that your thigh presses tightly against his. It makes your body buzz.

The whirring of the engine begins to scream even louder as it prepares to take off and you wince. Your hands bring themselves up until they’re pressed tightly against your ears. It only muffles the sound slightly.

Quaritch scowls when he sees you wince, golden eyes tightening around the corners and mouth thinning. He leans in close again to say something, and you tilt your head closer to hear. Your hair brushes against the bare skin of his arm.

“The loud noises will get better!” He shouts, nodding when you look at him. You nod back, immensely relieved to hear it.

He snorts when he sees your open vest. He rolls his eyes as he stands up from his seat to kneel in front of you, uncaring of the way the carrier shakes aggressively as it leaves the ground. His broad fingers swiftly begin to put the buckles and snaps in place, tugging here and there. As he gets lower, his hand brushes against the gentle flare of your hip, and you can’t help but shudder. Luckily, it's covered by the shuddering of the aircraft. You really didn’t need Quaritch to look any smugger than he already does. 

You watch him tug your vest into place until everything sits perfectly, pretty mouth twisting as he works. He nods once he’s done, moving to sit back in his seat like he hadn’t just taken you completely by surprise. That does seem to be his thing, though.

You can’t seem to wrap your head around the fact that Quaritch was actually here and coming with you on your first trip. All your worries seem to fade away as you realize what this means. If there is anyone whose capabilities you trusted, it's Quaritch. You’ve seen this guy fight before, and even then he barely broke a sweat. You also trusted that he would put in an effort to keep you safe, even if just to ‘save his image’ as he said. You almost roll your eyes.

The important thing is that you feel safe with Quaritch. Maybe that's stupid, maybe you’d end up regretting it. But for now, it's the only way you can feel. And with that feeling, hope and elation fully blossoms as you think about what you are about to accomplish with Quaritch by your side.

And really, what’s the worst that could happen?

Tagging: I tried to get everyone!!

@kristennero @silverhowe @creativityleftthechat @nissilou

@x-maladaptive-daydreams-x @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

@rdeville @anxiousraindrop5299 @floufli @rax-raxus

@nanamislut321 @perseny @gremlinfuck @e1d0lonk3k

@iwillnotexplainmyself @mxddymay @coffinbeananteiku @j-ang-0 @rowdy-00 @tmblrsexyw0man

@tohellwiththedevill @arsen-the-vamp @babyduk213

@owaowaowawa @desertrose244 @myxwallz @the-black-pines

@nahpu55yboy @goldmacaron @secretnerd00 @mxddymay @mckenzieriley69 @kristennero @kakimakiloh

@nina-murs @cannon3fodder @helpimhyperfixating @natalie12seal @daisybelldarling @b-dawwwg @r3dc4ndy @bitem4rked @simpforavillain @ilikeblueppl @curlymantis @novas-dreamworld

@wsup687 @poorpatheticdarling @spaghetti-in-my-pockets @skinmittensgoblin @darksxder @zilena9 @manymaria111 @ornnhub @roselleviennesstuff @dyingofcookies @dominespectabilis @mechformers @raezrr @missd3vil @biggestsimpever191919 @starfleetslut @ttreader @ @usvoldemort @kristennero @coffinbeananteiku @hellobittybabypotter @mrsquaritch @jane-arthur @luciddasher @redthefieryginger @nova-de-sketch

[potatoetree]

Tried out incorrect-quote-generator again here's some of my favorites!

Mumbo : I have a bad feeling about this...

Grian : What do you mean?

Mumbo : Don't you ever get that little voice in your head that tells you if you're going to get into trouble?

Grian : No?

Scar: That actually explains so much.

Grian , acting tough: You guys don't want to mess with me.

Scar: Yeah, Grian  will straight up cry in public. Don't try them.

Grian : Exactly, I will straight up-

Grian :

Grian , tearing up: Scar, why would you say that?!

Mumbo , texting group chat: What flavour of ice cream do you guys want? I’m at the store so be quick!

Grian : Moose Tracks is good!

Scar: What the fuck is that!?

Grian : *Gasp* How dare you insult moo-

Scar: No. No no not that. What the hell. Why do you spell flavor like flavour. It’s like you have flavor but then this guy shows up and is like “Oui Oui Would you like chocolate flaVOUR or vanilla flaVOUR. 

Mumbo  and Grian : what?

Scar: I don’t get it why add the EXTRA u when it’s PERFECTLY FINE AS IT IS!?

Mumbo : You done now?

Scar: Yeah ok.

Mumbo  and Grian : ...

Scar: ...Can I have the Mint Chocolate chip flavour?

Boatem Addition!

Scar, to Grian : When was the last time you let someone hug you?

Grian : *thinking*

Grian : 2012.

Pearl : 2012…?

Grian : Yeah. I almost died and it really freaked Mumbo  out so I let them hug me.

Mumbo : *gets a text* Oh! It’s Grian.

Impulse, excitedly: Did they get me the stuff?

Mumbo : Yeah, they say they got you the clown costume, the power drill, and 12 gallons of blood.

Impulse: Wow! Where’d they find 12 gallons of fake blood?

Mumbo : You wanted fake blood?

Impulse:

Mumbo : I’ll go call Grian.

Grian : I’m in love with you.

Mumbo : We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.

Grian : I know.

Mumbo : Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Scar: If I run and leap at Grian , they will most certainly catch me in their arms.

Scar, running towards Grian : Coming in!

Grian : No! I’m holding coffee!

Grian : *Drops coffee and catches Scar*

Scar: Are you mad?

Grian : No.

Scar: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

Mumbo : Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions.

Scar: Ridiculous. Give me some examples.

Grian : Wasps?

Grian : Terriers?

Mumbo : Grian.

Grian: *Laughs* Babe, you had a crush on me? That’s embarrassing—

Mumbo  : We’re married.

Pearl : I haven’t slept in 72 hours…

Mumbo : I haven’t slept in 80. I’m the insomnia king!

Grian: Ha! I haven’t slept in 90 hours, I’m aiming for an even 100.

Impulse: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

Scar: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

Grian: What? I'm not aggressive!

Pearl : Last Tuesday, you wacked me with a pair of crocs and stole my chocolate chips?

Grian: Survival of the fittest, bitch.

Pearl : I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture.

The Squad: Awwww-

Pearl : And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything."

The Squad: Oh.

Scar: I am Scar, I speak for the trees. Chop them down and I snap your knees.

Impulse: Just be careful, Scar!

Scar: *heading out the door* I'm always careful, Impulse!

Scar: It's everything around me that's careless.

Mumbo : Grian, is that legal?

Grian: When there's no cops around, anything's legal!

Pearl: Ayo, what the FUCK is this?!?

Grian, sitting down, surrounded by corpses: I won Mafia, that’s what.

Scar: Hey, Mumbo. Why did the chicken cross the road?

Mumbo: To get to the other side?

Scar: You were supposed to say “I dunno, why?“

Mumbo: Uh... fine. I don’t know. Why did it cross the road?

Scar: To get to the idiot’s house.

Mumbo: ...Ok?

Grian: Hey, Mumbo. Knock knock.

Mumbo: No.

Grian: You were supposed to say “who’s there?”

Mumbo: Fine... let’s get this over with. Who’s there?

Grian: The chicken.

Mumbo:

Grian:

Scar:

Mumbo: Listen here you little shits-