#I'm still crying over fireflies

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 2

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.6K (Sorry🙇🏽‍♀️)

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy/Mama/other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, etc.), P in V, nipple play, oral (male receiving), overstimulation, penis worshipping, unprotected sex (be safe and responsible), cum kink, femdom *if you squint*

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

PART 1 => 🦋

Here I was folded in half getting dicked down by a man whose name I had learned only a few hours ago. I was on my back with my ankles on his shoulders being fucked through a goddamn mattress. He was using his knees to push my thighs back further pounding away at my pussy, and it was obvious that he enjoyed watching himself slide in and out. "Shit... Ughh... Come on, Mama. You're doing so well for me!" he said thrusting into me like a jackhammer. I could feel myself tightening around his dick.

My pussy was obnoxiously creamy now. The lewd sound his dick had coming from my pussy would put even your grandmother's mac and cheese to shame. This man was stirring my insides like instant mashed potatoes, and I couldn't do a goddamn thing about it.

I had been severely overstimulated and beyond fucked out. Over and over and over again. He had the stamina of a Brahman Bull and the strength of a gorilla. This was the first time a man had ever treated me this way. Like the slutty princess I was. He was tossing around my 230-pound body like I weighed nothing to him. Where had this man been all my life?

"Lil' Mama, you listenin' to me?" he asked me through gritted teeth. "Terry, I...," I said trying to form at least one coherent thought. "What did you just call me?" he asked his expression quickly changing from focused to angry. Oops. I looked down at him trying my hardest to form an apologetic smile.

Terry wrapped his arms around both of my thighs and yanked me closer to the bottom edge of the bed. His swift movements allowed his hips to stay connected to mine so that his dick never slipped out. He leaned in closer and let his body rest on top of mine. He pushed my thighs upward against his chest so that my clit was still accessible. I felt his hands rub soft trails along the outside of my body. One hand continued its adventure up my stopping to rest on my breast while the other found a home on my swollen clit.

He had found out that I was easily overstimulated when it came to my nipples. He began to twirl each nipple between his thumb and index finger. When I wasn't giving him the immediate response he was seeking, he began to smack each of my breasts. He started alternating back and forth between slapping and pinching both nipples. I could tell by the throbbing coming from my pussy that I wasn't going to last much longer. The pleasure was so intense that my mouth refused to let any sound escape from my lips. I couldn't moan. I couldn't groan. I couldn't cry. All I could do was take it.

Terry was well aware of the amount of ecstasy I was feeling. As if his goal was to torture me, he used the thumb on his other hand to start rubbing circles around my clit. I closed my eyes trying to think my way through this suffering. He wasn't playing fair. My back was arching off the bed pushing my chest towards his. He forcefully pushed my body down so that my body was flush against the bed. "Unh... Unh... Nope. You gone open those eyes and look at Daddy," he said reaching for my throat with the hand that was no longer playing with my breasts. "Mmm... I can't," I moaned out. "What did I say?" he said moving his hand to the back of my head and forcing me to look between us.

It was a beautiful sight. All I could see was my glistening pussy swallowing each inch of his heavy dick. He was putting on a show now. He would slowly pull all the way out to the tip and slam back in until our hips collided. "Tell me how much you like this dick, pretty girl. Come on, mama. Talk to me," he said pulling out and giving me slow shallow strokes. I couldn't come up with an accurate answer because telling him it was good wouldn't do.

"Fuck. I... mmm... love it, Daddy. It's... it's perfect," I said reaching up to stroke his forearm. "Yeah, I know. I can tell by how you grippin' me. Now, move your fuckin' hand. Uh oh, you finna cum? Huh? Tell me," he said letting go of my head and removing his hand from between my legs. He was once again standing before me and his hips still never stopped moving. His thrust began to get deeper again, and he was bottoming out with every stroke. He was using his grip on my thighs as leverage to thrust upward. He was pulling my body against him each time to match his movements. It was as if he was using my body against me. "Look at you. You look so pretty. You don't know whether you goin' or comin'. This dick got you dumb, huh?" he asked peering down at me. GREEN-EYED BASTARD.

I couldn't answer. "Mhmm..." I moaned out reaching up towards the headboard. "Unh.. Unh... Words," he growled smacking the side of my thigh. I screamed in pain. That was all it took for my pussy to begin clenching him again. My body couldn't take anymore, and I was about to explode. "Is there somethin' you wanna ask me? Huh? 'Cause if you do what I think you finna do without permission, you gone wish you wouldn't have, princess," he grunted. The raspiness of his voice was evidence of his growing fatigue and approaching climax.

"Please, Daddy. I...I need it. Please, can I come?" I begged with tears rolling down the sides of my face. "You think you deserve it? Huh?" he asked torturing me. "Yes, Daddy. I....," I said bawling. Tears were streaming down the sides of my face now. "Go ahead. Make a fuckin' mess. Let Daddy have it," he replied as I watched a sinister smirk takeover his face. His hips moved faster, and I was already a leaking mess. The noises my pussy made and our hips colliding were the only sounds in the room. Both of us went silent from being too caught up in the pursuit of pleasure.

The rising pressure in my belly was causing a fever to wash over my body. Every part of me was becoming more sensitive by the second. Each stroke only added to the tsunami that was about to crash. It felt like everything around me went black. My ears stopped working, my body stopped responding, and my mind went blank. I came hard and intense. Every fluid built up from his persistent edging flowed out of me like a river. His hips, my thighs, the bed, and the floor were now soaked. The arch in my back felt painful and agonizing. My breathing was labored, and I was struggling to recover. However, Terry had other plans, and the relief I felt was quickly overpowered by the feeling that his strokes never stilled or slowed down. He was fucking me through my orgasm. Why? Why the fuck was he doing this to me?

I held my hand up, but he grabbed my wrist and pinned it down. "Hands off. You know better. Come on. Daddy's almost there, baby. Just a little more," he said looking at me. His bottom lip was swollen from him biting it so hard. "Go ahead, Daddy. It's yours. This pussy is yours. Take... Ahhh... Take...it...from...me," I moaned through each stroke. I was absolutely in a fucked out frenzy. If he wasn't going to stop, I would just have to talk my way through it.

I could feel his body tightening up and his hips beginning to stiffen. He slowed his strokes and glared down at me, and his face was a distorted expression of increasing pleasure. "You want this nut, then come get it!" he growled through gritted teeth. He pulled out of me and began stroking himself. I knew what he wanted, and I wanted it, too.

The dick dumb bitch I was in this moment wanted to taste him, suck him, lick him, swallow him, and do it again. The way this man just thoroughly fucked me... HE DESERVED IT!

I went on my knees at the foot of the bed. The carpeted floor was providing no relief for my aching body. I reached for his dick, but he instantly smacked my hand away. "No, ma'am. All mouth. Hands on your lap," he said gripping my chin. He lifted my face so that his dick rested on my lips. It was heavy, and I loved the weight of it. I opened my mouth and took as much of it in as I could without instantly choking or gagging.

He looked down at me with low eyes. Even from this angle, he was one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen. The moonlight glistened off the sweat on his smooth brown skin. I could feel his hands gripping the hair at the nape of my neck. "More!" he rumbled as pushed my head down further to take in more of him.

I relaxed my throat, and let him use me. He began thrusting into my mouth with no remorse. Tears were starting to fall again, and spit bubbles were pouring from the sides of my mouth. I slurped my way off his dick and let it fall out of my mouth. I leaned back a little so his dick now rested on my cheek. I used my tongue to lick along the underside of him and slowly traced a single solid vein from his tip until I reached his base. He shuddered at the feeling. I flattened my tongue and began to lap at his balls. I opened my mouth to allow one of them in. I sucked slightly and opened my mouth while inhaling. I used the feeling of the cold air and my saliva for his stimulation. "Aww... Ugh... Fuck you. You nasty bitch. Mmm...," he said grunting. His head fell back, and the grip he had on my hair tightened. I switched sides and showed the other one the same attention.

His head fell back down, and his scowl had returned. I smiled at him. "I love what the fuck you doing Mama. I'm gone need this all the time. You gone be a good girl for me? Huh?" he asked pulling my head up so that I was looking directly at him. "Of course, Daddy," I said leaning forward and putting the tip in my mouth. I let my tongue flatten on his head and licked off any existing precum. "Daddy doesn't like when his nut goes to waste, baby girl. It's time to prove you're a big girl for... uh shit... Prove you're a big girl for Daddy," he said thrusting himself completely into my mouth. I opened as wide as I could, so my teeth wouldn't touch him. I didn't wanna disappoint Daddy. I held myself there. My nose burrowed into the small patch of hair above his dick. Saliva was now pooling from the sides of my mouth. I slurped up as much as I could while fighting that nagging feeling in the back of my throat.

"You want it, huh?" he asked glaring down at me. I looked up at him bashfully. "Yes, Daddy!" I moaned around his dick. He laughed back at my dick-filled response. He let both of his hands find their place in my tangled hair and wrapped them around the base of my skull interlocking his fingers. He pushed my head down and held it there.

Terry's orgasm came with a vengeance. Warm spurts of his cum filled and coated my throat. I immediately began swallowing. The last thing I wanted to do was choke after I had done so well. I opened my throat and sucked at his base. I swallowed every last drop even cleaning up leftovers from before. He hovered over me a panting mess while his dick remained in my mouth. His disgruntled moans turned into groans. I searched for his eyes out of concern, but they were closed. He was leaning over me with one hand bracing himself up.

I decided to let him ride out his high and come down slowly. I was in no rush to release this man. I slowly removed myself from his dick but not completely. I kept his head in my mouth and began to lick around it.

Yes, this should have been the end. But I needed my win, and I needed it now! Yes, I had come three times already, but I needed more. One more. Not from me but from HIM. Nah, I wasn't done. Big Mama had one more trick up her sleeve. I began to lick all over him again. I could feel him lean up. "Lil' mama, what chu doin', girl?" he moaned out. I could feel him start to struggle because he was still groggy from his orgasm and succumbing to his fatigue. Hell, that's exactly what I wanted. I wanted this big-ass man to crumble. I was the wrecking ball that was about to knock this nigga down.

BRICK. BY. MOTHERFUCKIN'. BRICK.

This was more than overstimulation. I wanted him to try to stop me. I wanted to hear him beg. Just like he did me. Check-fuckin'-mate! When I was crying and begging, he laughed and told me to take it. Now, it was his turn. I wanted him to see how it felt. He needed to know how it felt to not be in control.

He grabbed my hair again to try and pull me off. I threw my arms around him. As I pulled him closer, I swallowed him whole again. I wrapped my arms around this man like a toddler refusing to let their father leave for work. No, sir. He wasn't about to go any-fuckin'-where. I made sure to only leave enough space for me to move my head but not enough for him to move his hips. I looked up at him with a menacing grin of victory and a mouth full of dick. His face was distorted in anguish, and that smug grin he held before was overtaken by a pout of desperation.

Oh well, this was his fault. Why did he have to taste so good? Why did he fuck me like that? Why did he have to show out like that? Now, I was going to have to show him who I was. BIG MAMA, AND HE BETTER NOT FUCKING FORGET IT!

I was sucking this man like I was trying to drain him of everything he had. As I looked up at him, our eyes met. This time I didn't break away from his gaze. Baby, I held it. I wanted him to watch me take his soul. He smiled down at me weakly. I knew what that meant. He had finally realized he had no choice but to take it. Let me have MY way. Terry was losing it.

His knees started to buckle, so I let one hand slide up to the lower half of his back to support him. I didn't want Daddy falling, now did I? "What the fuck you doing to me, girl?" he asked pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth.

If I remember correctly, I said I would taste him, suck him, lick him, swallow him, and do it again. Didn't I?

I moved my head up and down his shaft while still sucking until I got to his tip. I pulled off and used my lips to kiss the tip. "Ughh... Ahhh... You can't keep doin' me like this? Baby girl,... Fuck, I can't... I can't even think," he said throwing his head back again and placing his hands on my shoulders. "Not so fun when it's you, huh?" I said while licking the same vein as before. "You... *kiss* should've... *lick* left... *kiss* me... *lick* alone," I said kissing and licking back towards the tip. I hovered there for a second and began rubbing and swirling the tip of my tongue against his opening collecting all of my earnings. He was dripping all over again.

I opened my mouth and only allowed the head in because I wasn't done talking my shit, and I needed him to hear me. "I tried to be nice." *suck* "I tried to behave." *suck* "You just wouldn't let me," I said sucking him up again. "Alright... Fuck... Ah, shit... I get it, baby" he said looking down at me. His eyebrows were knitted together like he was in pain. "Too late. My turn," I said letting my throat do all the work. I gave him everything I had. I could feel how close he was. "Fuck... I can't..." he said his head rolling on his shoulders. He removed his hand from my shoulders and rubbed his face.

This was the moment I had worked so hard for. The moment when he knew that HE WAS DEFEATED.

He had been beaten at his own game. All that shit-talking. All that teasing. All that edging. All that dominant energy. All of it went out the window when I was on my knees. Think about it. I was in one of the most submissive and vulnerable positions for this man, and he couldn't beat me. How ironic was that?

I felt the muscles in his legs stiffen and his ass tighten. I sucked on his head until I felt him coming. The load of this orgasm was different than the first one. It was stronger and heavier, and I swallowed all of it. I released my arms from around his waist and let his dick fall out of my mouth. "Is Daddy done?" I asked looking up at him while grabbing his dick at the base. I held it in my hand waiting for an answer. "Huh?" Terry mumbled as he was now the one struggling to find an answer. I gripped his dick tighter in my hands. "I asked you if you were done, Daddy. Are you?" He groaned at the feeling. "Shit... Ahh... Yes, Daddy's done. I...," he said through ragged breaths.

I released his dick and scooted over from between his legs. I was covered in saliva and cum. It stained the entire lower half of my face. My chest and breasts were still wet and sticky. My knees were aching, and my thighs burned from sitting on them for so long. My jaw and throat had suffered the brunt of the "punishment", and it felt like they were on fire. The soreness I felt was not something that was going to wear off by tomorrow, so a day of rest was imminent and inevitable.

I rose to my feet slowly. I had to admit that even though I was a fucking trooper for this, my entire body felt like jello.

As I stood, I caught Terry side-eyeing me. He turned to look at me before collapsing on his back onto the bed as if his body gave out. He sported an exhausted smile. He rubbed his hands up and down his torso. "What? Big Bad Terry had so much to say earlier. You seem kinda quiet now," I said as I sat on the bed beside him. I laid back so that we were side-by-side.

He chuckled deeply. "The fuck am I supposed to say to that, huh?" he asked pulling me closer to him. I wrapped my leg over his waist and looked into his eyes. He stared back at me while stroking small circles along the center of my back. "You're right losers aren't supposed to give speeches after defeat," I said laughing while throwing my arm across his torso. "Losers?" he questioned. "Yeah, that's what I said. Unless... Daddy isn't done," I said moving as if I was going to grab his dick again. "Hell no!" he yelled smacking my hand away. "Scary ass," I whispered before turning away from him to laugh. "So... Since losers don't give speeches, where's yours?" he said scooting to the top of the bed. He sat up so that his back rested against the headboard. He motioned for me to join him.

I got on my hands and knees and crawled to the head of the bed. "Sit," he said grabbing my waist and pulling me down so that I was straddling him. "First off, I don't have a speech. It's more of a statement or a declaration of sorts," I said clasping my hands together in front of me. "And what's that, pretty girl?" he said kissing my lips.

I placed my hands on both sides of his face and gave him gentle kisses everywhere I could. I cupped his chin and raised his face so that he looked me directly in the eyes. "My name is Big Mama, and you will address me as such. Got it?" I said leaning over to plant one final kiss on his forehead.

Just like I said. I might have lost the battle, but I told you Big Mama always wins the war.😉

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @lovey-3 @curvyambitions @jimmybutlrr @amyhennessyhouse @deja-r @blyffe @hoouno06 @theinsidefeelingofateen @helloncrocs @nicolexnight @gwenda-fav @thiccc-c @blowmymbackout @gg-trini @armandosbabymama @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @ariiijestertheklown @slutsareteacherstoo

[tragedy-of-commons]

"are you crying?" + blade + platonic/familial (found family father figure blade with teen!reader) please :3

"Are you crying?"

Oh no.

Blade's question - if you can even call it that, considering he says everything in that deadpan tone of his - hangs in the air for a stagnant minute and then some.

Maybe if you don't make a peep, don't move a muscle, he'll give up and go back to minding his own business. It's not too far-fetched! Despite how savage and brutal he is in combat, he's surprisingly calm (and daresay gentle at times). Maybe he'll read the room, absorbing your aura wordlessly like Kafka can.

He grunts your name, an edge present that wasn't there before.

...or maybe not.

You break your silence, whirling around to face him, plastering the hugest, most saccharine smile on your face. It doesn't matter if there are tears rolling down your cheeks and a bit of snot sticking to your upper lip (ew). You have to try to get him off your back before something worse happens.

"Crying? I'm not doing that, no, never. You see, Firefly was in here chopping onions earlier," you chirp, rattling off lies like it's your second nature. Well, it is, that's why you got roped into joining this questionable team in the first place - but that's neither here nor there!

Blade looks at you.

You look at Blade.

Deflating and dropping the act, you swallow, trying to retain some of your cheery tone while you sniffle. "Okay, you win. I just... it's been a rough day, I'm sure you know how it is."

If there's one thing you know about your ancient colleague, it's that he can't make small talk for the life of him. You don't think it's his fault, really. Silver Wolf let it slip that he's lost pieces of himself to mara over the years - some days he can't hold functionality beyond a weapon without Kafka's pacifying mind tricks.

So, trying to keep up casual conversation with Blade is akin to yapping at a brick wall. You've gotten used to it, sure, but the way he's looking at you right now - with a pinched brow and somewhat of a snarl - is starting to unnerve you.

Does crying piss him off? You understand it's not a pleasant thing to deal with (not that you expect him to). But seeing him this angry outside of battle makes you want to run and drop off the grid for the rest of your life, abandoning your very important Stellaron Hunter duties and Blade in the process.

You swallow, wiping your face with your sleeve. You can't seem to stop miffing him, because he stalks over to you completely in two strides while you freeze up in muted terror.

Is he going to execute you?! Has he decided to circumvent Elio's rules just to shut you up? Is your pathetic sniveling really going to be your undoing? Will the others have to scrape your remains off the walls and floor, your life forever immortalized as a reminder to keep the waterworks under contro--

He all but shoves something into your limp hand, closing your fingers around it a little too tenderly before sidestepping you like he's been scalded by boiling hot water.

It's soft, and you eventually realize it's a handkerchief. It's the darkest navy can pass without actually being black, embroidered with neat red stitching and obviously made with love. You don't know why he even has something like this - it's not like he ever cries - but you let the train of thought go in favor of soothing your frayed nerves.

You don't think twice before bringing the cloth to your face and wiping the remnants of your sadness away, trying to find your words in the process. Your coworker is now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you, all traces of perceived anger gone. The foot or so between you and Blade isn't a wide berth, but it's still too far.

"Oh," you manage dumbly, now sporting a considerably drier nose.

Unimpressed, he replies. "I know."

"What?"

Okay, you sense his frustration this time. Blade sighs and wrenches his head in your direction for just a moment, exasperated and tense. "I know... how it is. Like you said."

You tighten your grip on the handkerchief wadded up in your hand. It's strange to hear him converse with you willingly, let alone try to comfort you (at least, you think that's what he's doing). Even so, his admission strikes a certain chord in your heart that's dusty from neglect. You sneak a glance at his figure, and when you meet eyes of burning coal, he returns to glowering at the wall.

Everyone on this ship has been through so much, especially him. You're certain that Blade does know what it's like to have some shitty days; he's probably had thousands of them.

You shrug. "Yeah... um, I figured. Nothing much I can do about it though. Bad stuff happens to everybody."

A lengthy pause stretches on until Blade takes up the mantle.

"You can't do anything about it," he repeats, statement curtailing into a dangerous drawl, "...but what about someone like me?"

Someone like him. Dread and something like fondness washes over you at the implication. The type of person he is - an eponymous sword and scabbard that slaughters on command - cannot fix the type of anguish you're dealing with. He's offering to help in the best way he knows how, you realize slowly.

The fact that he's even offering to shed blood in your name is a bit scary - not just because murder is wrong or whatever, but because he's actively trying to care about you.

No one's ever done that before.

"Alright, who are you and what have you done with Blade?" you joke, grinning genuinely this time, even if lingering moisture clings to your lashes. "Kidding. As nice as the offer is, I don't think your, um, solution... will help either."

You don't think it matters anymore - you're already starting to forget what got you so down in the first place. Perhaps you haven't given him enough credit, because by the way Blade's posture relaxes, he also notices this. No murder necessary tonight.

"Stand tall," he commands, pointedly not meeting your eyes as he pats your head. Before you have any time to process that, he disappears quickly down the adjoining hallway, likely slinking off to shred some training dummies.

You fly into a double-take, jaw practically on the floor.

Seems like you'll have to interrogate the old man whenever you get a chance to wash and return his handkerchief.

As you open up your messages app to text Silver Wolf all the details (with a concerning amount of stickers), your day doesn't seem so rough anymore.

"Thanks, Bladie," you whisper secretly to no one but yourself.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren, @https-sourlimes

a/n: i finally got it done! so psyched to work on another platonic/familial prompt and it's BLADE i'm so sick. thank you for this request! :D

event post here

[yan-lorkai]

Hi Lorkai! I really like your work! I hope I'm not breaking any rules, but could I request something?

So, Malleus hatched from an egg, right? I was thinking about a dragon egg magically appearing in his bed while he sleeps. When he sees it, he knows it's his and his darling's baby. Like, the egg manifests because he loves his darling VERY MUCH.

What do you think he would do next? Would he tell his darling about their baby, or keep it a secret? Would he use the egg to baby-trap his darling?

If you're uncomfortable writing this request, feel free to ignore it! It's alright, I understand. Have a great day!"

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Hiii darling (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ~, thanks for your gentle words. Wrote a little drabble and some hcs for you, hope you like it and have a good day /night too!

It was almost like a dream coming true, albeit a bit too early. Malleus was still courting his beloved, slowly expressing his interest through his gestures and words, but he loved his beloved so much that his feelings simply gave life to a whole new being. And as soon as he wakes up in the morning, his eyes water when he sees the egg, when he holds it and feels life pulsing inside. Malleus doesn't usually cry but he cries a waterfall while he holds his unborn child. He is just that happy.

His and his darling's child. Your child. He already imagine they would look. Would they look more like you or more like him? Would they smile so sweetly like you? Would they be sassy and funny like you? Gods, he already wished to meet them. Alas, dragon faes take a while to hatch.

Thunder rolls across the dark skies as a sea of ​​feelings passes through him. And while he holds the egg against his chest, Malleus sets out to find you and tell you the news. He knows where you are, he can feel it and in a shower of green fireflies he appears in front of you. Eyes still shining with tears and a light blush over his face.

"Meet our child." He says softly. Softer than anything he's ever said, so happy that he hands you the egg to hold while he explains to you how dragon fae are conceived.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Now, how Malleus act depends on how you react to the news. He could be a doting boyfriend (and someday in the future a husband) to you and an amazing father for the child. If you are happy with the news, he's going to be delighted, already planning your marriage and life in his mind, discussing names for your child and the color palette for their room. Overall the next days he's spending each and every minute by your side.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Though the moment the child is born, all of you are going home. A school is no place for a baby to grow up, if you still want to pursue your education then Malleus is going to hire the best professors to give you private lessons in the castle. And also to help you adapt to fae society if you are human.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ But if you are to reject him or deny being the other parent, Malleus will not take this lightly. The child is yours, no amount of denying will work. You may just be scared but this is no excuse to sprout lies, a new life was born for his love for you and dragon fae needs love from both parents to exist, or so he says. He'll guilt trip into becoming the other parent and to stay with him. He didn't have his parents growing up and he was so so lonely, his child will have both parents present, even if he has to use his magic on you for you to cooperate.

[motherofdogs1010]

A Jedi in Arrakis II (Paul Atreides x Reader)

Summary: While on the run from Empire troops, Jedi padawan Y/N comes to find out that hyper-driving in a compromised craft can have some major setbacks when she discovers not only is on a new planet but a whole new galaxy as well...

Warnings: eventual 18+, eventual smut, pinv!sex, currently FLUFF, eventual NSFW, jedi!reader, simp!Paul, Bene Gesserit ideology, Bene Gesserit breeding ideology, spoilers for Dune I and II, angst, talks of questioning the Force and teachings

A/N: I am changing the timeline of the Dune plot and certain events

Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part I

A total of one month had passed since her arrival on Arrakis, the Duke have been kind enough to allow for her to stay with them. And during these few days, she had found Paul's company to be welcoming with the way he was intrigued about everything from the Force to her home on Naboo. It made her feel warm inside but she tried to ignore it, but she knew if Anakin was here, he'd been teasing her about it.

"What was that you did with the sandworm?" Paul asked, she looked at him.

"I used the Force", she answered with a frown. "Have you not heard of the Force?"

"No, never", Paul breathed, "it was... amazing. And what is that you carry?"

"It's my lightsaber", she answered as BB trailed next to her. "This is all so confusing, we are only a universe away and yet it's so different. This planet is really similar to Tattoonie and is very strong with the Force"

Paul let out a light chuckle in agreement, "it is. I would like to know more if you don't mind and tell you about Caladan, it's where I was raised."

"Of course", she said with a smile. "I'm only a padawan, if my Master was here, he'd probably get a big head and I'd love to hear more about your planet later."

"So, I'm assuming you're a student?"

"An apprentice, I don't become a Master until I am found ready to conquer the trials by the Jedi Council."

As she continued talking about the Force, the teachings, about Naboo, Paul seemed more interested as he listened intently and hanging off every word of hers. He did look over anxiously over at BB a few times before they came to one of the many loading bays at this compound as Paul asked, "can you really understand it?"

"BB? Yeah, anyone where I'm from understands basic droid language", she answered with a shrug. "BB's just a big goof, he's a prototype I was given."

BB let out a little offended noise and she patted his head.

"We have A.I. and robotics banned after we had a war with them", Paul said, she nodded.

"Atreides!" a booming voice declared and she saw a tall, tan skinned man with a big grin coming to Paul.

He looked like a warrior but the way Paul was excited to him let her know of the friendship the two had.

"Duncan", Paul said with a grin, "you're back from the South."

"With barely my life and oh! Who is this, Paul? A lady friend of yours", Duncan joked, she laughed. "I will say that those Fremen fight for blood."

"My name is Y/N and I... crash landed here when I hyper jumped", she said, BB whirled. "Oh and this is BB."

"I still don't understand how that is possible without Spice", Paul said. "You said Spice doesn't exist at all where you are from."

"I'm assuming my galaxy's technology is more advanced", she answered, "since we use droids and such, even our medicine is more advanced."

"Well, it is nice to meet you, Y/N, BB", Duncan said with a knowing grin, "I'm heading to my room to get some much needed rest."

Duncan turned and left with a grin as Paul watched as BB approached him, a finger poking BB on the head who let out a little war cry and began to bump Paul in the shins.

Paul had training to do and he had lend her to a quiet spot where she and BB could be, where she could focus on strengthening her Force training. Y/N had already done her lightsaber training, making sure she was still honing her skills even while on this odd planet.

"Ok, BB", she said, "let's get to it."

Sitting down with her legs crossed and her eyes closed, Y/N sucked in a deep breath and began to let her mind clear, remembering everything Anakin had told her and Ahsoka about being one with the Force. She had to empty her mind, allow herself to fully feel for the Force and as she evened out her breathing, she allowed for her mind and breathing to lull her...

🪐

The Reverend Mother had come earlier than expected and Lady Jessica found herself trailing behind her old teacher as the woman was scolding her for having birthed a son.

"What is this of a newcomer?" Reverend Mother asked. "I have heard whispers of a woman from another galaxy who possess odd abilities."

"She is no one", Jessica answered, "merely a lost traveler."

Jessica could feel the older woman's glare from behind the cage veil and felt like a student all over again.

"A lost traveler who held back a sandworm with a unseen power", Reverend Mother spat.

Jessica held back her emotions as she watched as a sudden thought passed over her mentor's eyes and Jessica felt unsure as to what she was thinking, but she held a hope it wasn't what she was thinking.

Had Paul been born a girl, he would have been married to na-Baron Feyd-Rautha of House Harkonnen, but Jessica had never intended to fall for Leto. It had been her greatest failure in the eyes of her Sisters when she chose to give Leto a son, that she chose to give her dearest love what he wanted: an heir.

At the time, her pride had made her even think Paul could become the Kwisatz Haderach, but now, she wasn't so sure and with the arrival of this strange girl, Jessica wondered.

She wondered if the Reverend Mother was plotting once again, she recognized that glint in the old woman's eye when she found a new individual to add to their growing breeding program.

Jessica tried to push down that curiosity and that anxiety that always seem to come when she thought about Paul's future.

🪐

"C'mon, Paul", Duncan encouraged, "focus. You need to always keep an eye on the enemy, it could mean life or death."

Paul nodded, "my mind was wandering, sorry."

The girl he had been dreaming about was here, he had first thought she could have been a Fremen with her garbs that she would sometimes be in the dreams, but no, she was from beyond their galaxy.

Paul sucked in a breath as he tightened his stance, trying to listen to Duncan's advice despite the way his mind was recalling the dreams.

The dreams where he could taste a unique drink as she smiled at him, it was a blue drink with the consistency of milk; another dream where they were here in Arrakis, the Spice in the sand glittering as they sat on a tall dune, watching a sandworm pass them by...

Arrakis was beautiful at night, Y/N concluded as she looked at the dark horizon; the air was cooler as she stood on the balcony. BB was in his hibernating mode to charge as Y/N was dressed in a thin nightgown meant for this weather, her robes folded up neatly as her hair hung loose from its hairstyle.

A knock came from her door and she sensed it was Paul, she walked over to the door and opened it.

"Paul", she greeted with a smile. "Shouldn't you be asleep? Being a Duke's son and such?"

"I wanted to talk more", Paul replied with a smile. "I decided my beauty sleep could wait a little longer."

"How kind of you", she joked, letting him in.

"I wanted to ask about your saber thing", Paul sheepishly said, "I've never seen anything like it and I wanted to ask more about you."

Y/N felt her eyes widen at Paul's statement about her, it made her heart thump in a way it hadn't before and she sheepishly looked away before moving to grab her lightsaber.

"It'd be too heavy for you to hold", she softly said, moving a bit aways so the heat of the saber wouldn't startle Paul. "Ready?"

Paul nodded with a boyish grin as she pressed the button, the hum of the lightsaber coming to life and the bright white of its color showing.

Paul looked at it amazed as she twirled it to show-off.

"How is it not heavy for you?" Paul asked.

"They train us from when we were young", Y/N said, "they give us little ones to get us used to the weight."

She shut the lightsaber off and put it on the dresser.

"Your galaxy seems so amazing", Paul softly said, walking in front of her. "I hope to see it one day."

"And Caladan sounds beautiful", Y/N replied back.

They were silent as they stared at one another, a small smile gracing Paul's lips as he said, "you look different with your hair down. I've never seen it."

"Oh", she said, flushed a bit. "Space Puffs are very popular on Naboo."

A strange feeling was in her chest, one that seemed to make her feel fuzzy and light as she stood in Paul's presence and she wondered if this is how Anakin felt when he saw Padme. One had to be a idiot to not see the glances the two gave one another.

"I better go back", Paul said after a minute, a boyish grin on his face. "If anyone saw me, they'd throw a scandal."

Y/N bite her bottom lip as she watched Paul leave and sucked in a breath as she contemplated these new feelings.

TAGLIST

@cloudlst

@khaleesihavilliard

@colors-for-the-world-please

[guiltyasdave]

gold rush

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader x Dave York

word count: ~5.1k

summary: “You like him, princess?” Oberyn asks, a grin obvious in his tone. 

You nod silently, your eyes still trained on the man behind the boat’s steering wheel.

“So do I.” 

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be tugged, no use of y/n, kinda dom!Oberyn&Dave but they're just bossy really, unprotected p in v (which you shouldn't do with someone you just met), oral m&f receiving, threesome, a bit of m/m action but reader is the main character here, dirty talk, fingering, anal play (m receiving), praise kink, these three are freaky and i'm sure that i forgot something, if so please let me know <3

takes place in my modern!Oberyn universe but can be read as a standalone!

a/n: my plan was to write this for @secretelephanttattoo's secret springs event, which i'm criminally late to (i'm sorry, el!), but that is where the idea for dolphin tour dave came from. i didn't expect to go this feral with it lol

big hugs and thank you to @jolapeno for letting me cry about the complications of writing threesomes and figuring out the plot (read: positions) with me and @sizzlingcloudmentality for listening to me complain about this nonstop and gushing over the million snippets i sent and taking me seriously when i came to her with “i have an important question about giving head”

i'm very grateful that so many people seemed excited about this idea, i hope that it's everything you wished for and that you have a good time reading it!

dividers by @firefly-graphics <3

notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here

Waves are lapping against the boat’s hull, the ocean reflecting the soft orange and golden hues of the sun setting over the horizon. 

You’re leaning against the railing, relishing in the warmth that has sunk into your skin from the day on the water. A beaming smile seems to have permanently settled on your features after today’s trip, a cruise around the shore that resulted in fulfilling one of your lifelong dreams — getting to see dolphins in the open water, watching them race through the waves right beside you, their fins breaking through the surface.

You had squealed, unable to contain your excitement, committing every second to memory. A once in a lifetime experience, making this trip to Secret Springs one of the best vacations you’ve ever had. 

With the shore now rapidly approaching again, you’re drinking in your surroundings for the last few minutes, committing the whole day to memory, until it’s time to set foot on the mainland again.

However, your gaze keeps flitting back to the man steering the boat, who had been introduced as Dave and your captain for the day by the tour guide when you first boarded. You hadn’t been able to keep your eyes off of him all day, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his biceps was straining against the seams of his light blue t-shirt, the sharp jawline and the quiet concentration and competence that he exuded. 

Contrary to the tour guide, who kept chatting away, his mouth remained shut, full lips pursed, jaw clenching and unclenching. His eyes were piercing, keeping track of every movement, both out on the water and on the boat. There was no way he hadn’t noticed your staring, with the way his eyes had met yours a few times, his lips curling into a small smirk each time before he turned away again. 

Your boyfriend’s arms wrap around you from behind, his chin hooking over your shoulder. Hot breath fans against your skin, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching over your cheek as he places a swift kiss there. 

He follows your line of sight, an amused rumble from his bare chest vibrating against your backside. 

“You like him, princess?” Oberyn asks, a grin obvious in his tone. 

You nod silently, your eyes still trained on the man behind the boat’s steering wheel. He kisses you again, longer this time, lips lingering on the soft skin right behind your ear, his tongue catching a taste of the salt that has seeped into your whole body after the day of the water. 

“So do I.” 

You giggle, sinking deeper into his embrace. 

Dave is closed off at first when you walk up to him after he’s the last person to step off the boat. His jaw firmly set, giving the same air of quiet confidence that you’ve felt drawn to all day, but his fingers are twitching at his side when you approach him, his eyes flickering between you and Oberyn’s figure a few steps behind you. 

“Hey,” you smile sweetly, not missing the way his gaze quickly trails down your body in your short summer dress, before it flies back up to meet your eyes. “We were thinking, as a local you know all the best places around here, right?”

A wry grin grows on his face at the term local, but he hums in agreement. “Sure. How can I help you?” 

His voice travels right through you, deep and gravely, his words clipped with precision. Polite, but efficient. Entirely unlike Oberyn’s drawling purrs, but not any less intriguing. The cold exterior is drawing you in, challenging you to uncover what’s underneath.

“We wanted to go get a drink tonight, maybe you can show us the best spot for that?”

“Allow us to buy you one as well,” Oberyn chimes in from behind you, stepping closer and snaking one arm around your body. His hand comes to rest at your waist, sending warmth through the thin fabric that’s covering you. His thumb glides against the underside of your breast in a calculated movement, just short of grazing your nipple.

Even as you swallow down your responding whine, Dave’s gaze zones in on the movement, one eyebrow rising as his pupils dilate, his eyes turning darker. One corner of his mouth turns upwards.

He’s a quiet shadow moving beside the both of you, but he still keeps catching your glances at him, his pouty lips curling into a smirk each time. 

The bar he takes you to is less crowded than the ones right next to the beach that you’ve already visited, and the drinks aren’t as overpriced, but just as delicious. There’s a large deck on one side, with twinkling lights strung up between the poles and the scent of the surrounding flowers wafting through the air. 

Sinking into comfortable chairs in a corner, you sip on your drink and watch as Oberyn tries to get to know your companion better. He’s the more talkative one of the both of you, exuding the smooth charm and confidence that immediately drew you in when you first met him, but Dave doesn’t crack nearly as easily. 

His answers stay short, every word from his lips calculated, no information about him given freely. Heat is already gathering between your thighs, just from watching them. Both their presences overwhelming in the best way, both of them making you want them. 

It leaves you antsy, desperate to do something, something to be closer. You rise to your feet, extending a hand to Dave. “Dance with me?” 

His eyes widen a fraction, looking from your outstretched hand to Oberyn, who hasn’t moved an inch. “You don’t want to?”

Oberyn smirks, settling deeper into his seat, a picture of relaxation, but the tension of underlying excitement sparkling in his eyes isn’t lost on you. 

“No. I am enjoying myself right here.” 

Dave seems to consider for another moment, before he shrugs and his hand closes around yours. You love the feel of it, the warmth of his skin sinking into yours where you’re touching, his fingers calloused and rough against yours. The sight of him leaves your mouth dry, the shades of his face in the dim light, the dark pools of his eyes. They’re exactly the same shade as Oberyn’s, but where Oberyn is familiar, his eyes telling stories of love and joy every time he looks at you, like a warm bath that you can sink into, Dave’s eyes are like steel. Cold. Watchful. Not any less interesting. 

You start dancing, moving your body to the beat that’s playing from the speakers, a sensual rhythm that makes it easy to get closer to him, to get a taste of how his body would feel against yours. Letting yourself get lost in the high of the day, in the soft haze of the alcohol in your veins, in the nervous energy that’s bubbling inside of you at the prospect of this new adventure right in front of you.

As you grind against him, one hand curls around your hips, strong and determined, effortlessly stopping your movements. The simple touch is enough to make your knees go weak, holding the promise of power, of everything you want from him. He firmly holds you where you stand, putting some distance between the two of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His tone is still clipped, challenging in a way that sends heat through you. You like the no nonsense attitude, like the way his eyes are firmly trained on your face, the spark of something darker in them that makes you want more. 

“Dancing,” you pout, eyes widened in mock innocence. 

“Don’t bullshit me. Your boyfriend’s right there, sweetheart.” 

You turn to look at Oberyn, who’s already observing the both of you. He still seems relaxed, knees spread wide, lounging in his seat, but the hunger is burning in his expression. He teasingly raises an eyebrow at you and you return it with a grin, before your gaze finds Dave again. 

You take a step closer to him, leaning in to whisper into his ear. A small shudder runs through him.

“He doesn’t mind sharing.” 

The grip on your hips tightens, a low growl raising in Dave’s throat at your sudden proximity. 

“Is that so?”

You nod quietly, trailing your fingers over his chest. “He likes it.” 

His mouth is so close, close enough that you give in to the temptation and brush your lips against his. He growls again, louder this time, one hand curling around your neck to hold you right there as his teeth dig into your bottom lip. You sigh against his mouth, pliant under his grip, delighted at the change in his demeanor. 

His touch travels higher, up your sides until he’s almost in reach of your breasts and you’re slowly unraveling, your body desperate for more.

“Having all the fun without me, princess?” Oberyn turns up behind you, caging you between the both of them, mouthing at your neck and you whimper into Dave's mouth. 

“Thought— thought you were happy watching,” you gasp when he grinds against you and you feel his growing stiffness against your ass. 

He bites your neck gently, and you shudder again. 

A quiet look passes between the two men. You see the quiet question in Dave’s eyes, the evident satisfaction at what he finds in Oberyn’s, before he squares his shoulders and pulls up to his full height. 

A pleasant shiver travels up your spine as you watch the silent exchange. They’re two sides of the same coin, the same kind of energy, all confident and strong, but channeled so differently. Where Oberyn is all smooth, flowing like water and wrapping himself all around you, all-encompassing but almost impossible to grasp, Dave is nothing but hard edges, sharp enough to cut if you’re not careful. You want them both.

It’s dark in Dave’s apartment, only the faint glow from the moon and the streetlights filtering in through the windows. The rooms are almost eerily tidy, barely lived in. Your skin is still warm, both from the humid evening air outside and the heat that’s steadily growing inside of you at the prospect of what the night has in store for you. 

Still, the space you just entered somehow feels cold, much like the man that it belongs to. Except that, right now, that man’s lips are finding your neck, sucking at the same spots where Oberyn’s mouth had been not too long ago, his tongue hot against your skin as he pushes you down the hall. 

Your fingers reach for Oberyn instinctively, a silent breath leaving you when they intertwine with his. Feeling Dave on you is so new, so different, leaving you dizzy with excitement. He’s intense already, his touch demanding and firm, hands digging into your flesh as he steers you towards his bedroom. The anticipation makes you nervous, makes you long for the familiar touch of the other man to ground you. 

It’s a tangle of limbs, two pairs of hands on you as you stumble into Dave’s bedroom. The interior is minimalistic, functional, no personal items that you can make out in the dark. No photos, not even a dried up plant on the windowsill. You briefly wonder what kind of person he is, outside of this. If he has friends, hobbies, what he does when he’s not working. 

The train of thought dissolves when Oberyn’s mouth finds yours, his nose bumping into your cheek and his beard scratching against your chin. So similar to Dave’s kisses, and at the same time, not similar at all. One hand cups the back of your head, pushes you into the kiss, its touch vaguely unfamiliar. 

Your eyelids blink open, catching Dave’s, whose gaze is dancing between the both of you, watching, raw hunger behind his dark irises. You flick your tongue against Oberyn’s, relishing in his responding groan, and in the way Dave’s eyes darken further, trained on your boyfriend now. 

Oberyn pulls away, linking his hand with Dave’s that’s still resting at the back of your head. You’re hypnotized by the sight of both of them touching, even if just for a brief moment, before Oberyn places Dave’s hand on your shoulder, hooking the other man’s fingers under the thin strap of your dress. 

Winking at the both of you, he saunters over to the bed, spreading out on top of the covers, an expectant glint in his eyes. He looks so good like this, so easily commanding every setting he finds himself in, the confidence surrounding him at all times. Your attention wavers when Dave tugs at the straps, goosebumps forming on your skin where his fingers skim over you. 

He raises his eyebrows in question, toying with the fabric, waiting for your confirmation.

“Go ahead,” you breathe, excitement weighing out the flicker of nerves. 

He nods, determination painting his features, the kind of calm assuredness that has you pressing your thighs together when he slides the straps off your shoulders. 

The flowy dress lands in a heap at your feet, leaving you in just your panties, your breasts braless and already bare for him. 

Dave’s eyes widen, a mumbled Fuck tumbling from his lips. A proud smirk passes over Oberyn’s features. 

“She is just a dream, is she not?” 

“She is,” Dave growls, his broad hands roaming over your skin, pulling you closer. 

“Touch her,” Oberyn’s voice sounds from the bed. “She likes being played with.” The casual authority oozing from his tone, paired with being talked about as if you’re not there, is almost enough to get the heat blazing through you to boil over. 

“Does she now?” Dave murmurs, cocking his head and dragging his gaze down your body, purposefully slow. You start squirming when his fingers glide over your nipples, playfully tugging at the hardened buds. You whine in reaction, a needy sound that has both men chuckling. “Yeah, you do,” he coos, nipping at your throat. Your responding whine to the sharp pinpricks of his teeth is even louder this time.

His touch travels lower, skims over your stomach, stopping just short of your panties, beneath which you’re already dripping for him. 

“May I?” It’s low, almost reverential. His gaze burns into yours, glinting darkly when you nod, a please, Dave falling from your lips. 

He finds you wet with slick, the fabric covering you completely soaked through, a moan breathy and high in your throat when he rubs at you through the fabric. 

“Please, more,” you whimper, all dignity lost to the hope of what it might feel like to have his thick fingers inside of you soon. His lips chase your mouth as he pulls your panties to the side, swirls a finger through your wetness and up to your clit. Your moan comes out muffled, licked out of your mouth by his tongue. 

You grab at his t-shirt, eagerly pulling at the hem, desperate to see all of him, to feel all of him. He helps you pull it over his head, exposing his upper body, all wide shoulders and massive chest, to your hungry eyes. You’re overcome with the need to touch him, the fire burning inside of you fueled by how strong he feels, how his muscles are flexing under your exploring fingers. 

In the lack of light, it takes a second until it catches up to you that his torso is littered with scars, white lines that shine dimly, skin that’s uneven under your touch. There’s a particularly large cut near his left collarbone, one that you mindlessly trace with a finger, until his hand closes around your wrist in a harsh grip. He pulls it away abruptly, the look on his face bordering on dangerous. 

Your whispered sorry isn’t met with an acknowledgement. His eyes close and open with a deep exhale before he meets your gaze again, pointing a curt nod towards the bed. 

“Hands and knees. Now.” 

You’re quick to obey, even more eager to please now, the harsher demeanor only driving your arousal to new heights. Dave’s hands span over your ass as you lock eyes with Oberyn. Your boyfriend has already rid himself of his clothes, languidly stroking his cock and regarding you with a teasing smile. 

The sight has you clenching with need, knowing how much he loves seeing you like this, knowing how much his pleasure grows from seeing yours, from being able to give you this. 

Behind you, Dave pulls your panties down your legs, leaving you naked and on full display for him. A deep moan escapes him at the sight, spurring you on to arch your back a bit more as you turn your head to look back towards him. He’s staring, the weight of it heavy on your bare skin.

“Such a pretty pussy, sweetheart,” he rasps, before he kneels down behind you and licks a broad stripe through your folds. His groan at the taste reverberates through you, your slick flooding his tongue, your whole body pulsing with need, each lick sending a new wave through you. 

When his tongue lets up on its ministrations and he sinks two fingers into you instead, thumbing at your clit, you cry out in pleasure at the sudden sensation. Your eyes find Oberyn again, touching himself more urgently now, keeping eye contact with you. He’s still smiling.

It’s impossible to take anymore, impossible to bear not feeling full for another moment, the stretch of Dave’s fingers not nearly enough. “Please,” you whine, turning towards him again, “I need you to fuck me. Please.” 

Dave chuckles darkly. 

“Need it, huh?” 

You don’t mind the condescending tone, don’t mind how desperate it makes you look, you just nod, silently pleading with him to have mercy on you. He indulges you, lets you watch eagerly as he takes off his pants and his cock springs free, thick and heavy and everything you need right now. 

A moan leaves you at the sight, earning you a smug grin from him, before he steps closer. You feel him nudge at your soaked entrance, one hand resting on your hip while he’s taking his time to tease you. Helplessly, you grind against him, wanting to feel him, needing to feel him. 

“Give it to her hard,” Oberyn purrs, leaning forward to cup your face. “I want to hear her scream.”

You’re still shuddering from his words when Dave finally sinks inside you with one sharp snap of his hips that punches the air from your lungs. He gives you no time to adjust, immediately sets a punishing rhythm. It jostles your whole body, would push you up the mattress if he didn’t pull you back onto him by your hips. 

It hits just as deep, stretches you just as wide as you wished for, screams and sobs of his name falling from your mouth as raw pleasure is spreading through you like wildfire.

Oberyn’s mouth is on your lips, on your whole face, drinking your pleasure straight from the source. 

“Is he as good as you imagined, princess?”

You can only whine and nod, incoherent babbles of yes, fuck yes the best that you’re able to manage. 

“Do you hear that?” he purrs, flashing a feral grin towards the other man. “She is feeling so good, so drunk on your cock that she can barely talk.”

He moves away from you, gets up from the bed and steps behind Dave instead, his hands gliding over the man’s shoulders, his eyes glued to where Dave keeps thrusting into you harshly. You can only imagine the obscenity of the sight based on the wet sounds that ring through the bedroom. With a quiet laugh and a pat on your ass, Oberyn shifts again. “I want a closer look.”

Rustling hits your ears, but when you crane your head to try and see what’s going on, Dave’s fingers tangle in your hair, forming a fist and pulling. It’s forcing your back into an almost painful arch and your head to point forward again. He leans over you, bringing one foot up on the mattress, growling into your ear while his cock somehow reaches new depths with the change of position. 

“You focus right here. You wanted me so bad, huh? Pay attention to me, then.” 

He plunges into you even harder, the sensations right on the pleasurable side of overwhelming. You twitch violently in his grasp when another touch reaches you, the familiar feeling of Oberyn’s tongue teasing at your clit all of a sudden, the coarse hairs of his beard scratching against the sensitive flesh. His chuckle at your reaction vibrates against your pussy, causing you to writhe between them, pushing back against Dave’s thrusts while trying to chase Oberyn’s mouth at the same time. 

Dave groans at the way you’re tightening and twitching around him, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, holding you in place. Oberyn licks and sucks at you, knowing your body better than you know it yourself, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy almost instantly. 

“Getting so— fucking tight,” Dave grits out from behind you, landing a slap on your ass that has you squealing. The sharp bite of pain sends you tumbling over the edge, pulsing around his cock, still sheathed deep inside you. Your hands uselessly grab at the sheets, skin stretching over knuckles, anything to keep you grounded as pleasure burns its way through you. 

Oberyn never lets up on his attention on your clit, soft licks and kisses that prolong the aftershocks of your orgasm until you’re trembling, your head falling forward, sweaty forehead connecting with the soft blanket on Dave’s bed. 

“Good girl,” Dave coos from behind you, one large hand gently rubbing over your back. “You’re doing so good.” He gives a tentative thrust, picking up his movements again when no protest of overstimulation comes from you. “You can give us more, can’t you?” 

You manage a nod and a soft yes, your mind still too lost in the lingering haze of your climax, but your body is already responding to the sensations of his cock dragging through your tight walls again. He stretches you just right, reaches so deep inside of you. 

“You are so wet, princess,” Oberyn’s voice sounds in your ears, his breath hot against your folds. “Tastes so sweet.”

His tongue moves away from your clit, licking through you, until Dave’s sharp intake of breath makes it clear that Oberyn has moved on from teasing just you.

“Is this okay?” 

You know that your boyfriend’s question isn’t aimed at you, that he’s well aware how okay with this you are, but the husky drag of his voice has you clenching around the other man anyway. 

“Fuck,” Dave groans, his thrusts slowing, chasing more than just your tight heat now. “I’ve never— yes. Yes, it’s okay.” Another breath. “Please.”

There’s more rustling, more movement between your legs, until Dave’s cock slides out of you, leaving you empty and wanting. You open your eyes, peering down at where Oberyn’s head rests on the mattress underneath you. His hand is wrapped around Dave’s cock, moving slowly, letting the other man adjust to the new experience. 

You slide your own fingers down, tangling in his hair, chasing the connection between all three of you. Your eyes meet for a moment, burning hunger passing between you. Then Oberyn pulls on Dave’s hips and closes his lips around the head of his cock, shiny with precum and your arousal. 

Both men’s voices float around you; throaty, needy sounds. Oberyn sucks Dave deeper into his mouth, and the grip on your waist tightens once more. You loosen your hold on Oberyn and prop yourself up on shaky arms to turn around again, desperate to catch a glimpse at Dave’s face. 

He looks wrecked, teeth digging into his bottom lip, eyes pinched closed, his breath coming in pants, his bare chest shining with sweat. You reach for him instead, intertwining your fingers with the ones that had been holding on to your waist. His eyes fly open, a grin spreading over his face when he catches you looking at him. A grin that you eagerly return. 

“We’re going to make you feel good, too,” you breathe. An emotion that you can’t place passes over his face, so quick that you almost think you imagined it. For just one second, he almost seemed vulnerable. 

Oberyn chooses this moment to position Dave’s cock back at your entrance, where you’re more than ready to take him again, your hips instinctively pushing back against him, your walls engulfing him once more. 

“Yeah, you are,” he growls, plunging into you again, the sudden return of the stretch forcing another moan and a fresh wave of slick out of you. He’s still holding your hand, pinning it against your lower back, jostling your body with every snap of his hips as if you were a doll. The deep thrusts hit your g-spot again and again, reducing you back to a babbling mess within minutes. The only words on your tongue are their names, mixed together by a string of pleads. 

You miss the fullness, the drag of his cock each time he pulls out of you, but knowing that when he’s not filling your pussy, he’s in Oberyn’s mouth, is enough to keep your arousal burning until he sinks back into you. 

A second orgasm catches up to you almost embarrassingly fast, pulsing around him and screaming your pleasure into the sheets. Dave fucks you through it slowly, keeps the high coursing through your body, until you’re nothing but quiet whines, your thighs shaking with the effort of holding you up. 

“Shhh, princess,” Oberyn’s voice floats to you, his familiar touch grazing your legs. You watch hazily as he retreats from beneath you, directing your body until you’re lying on the bed, everything around you soft and warm like a cloud. 

“Take a little break, yeah?” he whispers, leaning down to capture your lips. “I’ll finish what you started.” 

You watch in awe as his fingers trails over Dave’s chest, mesmerized as a shudder ripples through the other man, how he hesitantly but determined reaches out to Oberyn to return the touch. They’re a sight together, and you still want them both, still don’t feel sated.

With your eyes widening, you witness Oberyn slowly sinking to his knees in front of Dave. Seeing him in an act of such obvious submission is rare, the way he takes Dave deep into his throat, swallows him down. 

His hands are on Dave’s thighs, where the muscles are flexing under his fingers, his fingers that are wandering up further, sliding over Dave’s ass, out of your line of sight. What you can see is how Oberyn’s eyes are trained on Dave’s face, gauging his reaction to the touches. You can see the pure ecstasy written over Dave’s features as he comes with a loud groan, the shuddering pull of his abs as he’s spilling his release into Oberyn’s eager mouth, the fingers tangled in his hair and holding him in place.

Oberyn lets out a satisfied rumble at the taste, a sound that adds to the insistent burning between your thighs. You reach out for your boyfriend, tugging at his shoulder. 

“I want a taste,” you demand in a breathless voice.

Dave makes a sound like all air has been punched from his lungs, watching as if hypnotized while Oberyn leans towards you, cupping your jaw before he kisses you deeply. He’s licking into your mouth, sharing Dave’s taste with you, a taste that you can’t get enough of, your tongue tangled with his until he gently pulls away, calls you an insatiable little thing. 

A laugh escapes Dave at that, sinking onto the mattress and pulling you into him. You melt into his touch, let him maneuver you until he’s leaning against the headboard with your back resting against his chest. He’s lazily toying with you, mouthing at your neck and gently circling your nipples, giving you the occasional tug to force small, high sounds from your throat. 

You’re writhing against him, but your eyes are trained on Oberyn, who’s slowly advancing towards you. “Do you still want more, princess?” he coos, swirling a single digit through the slick between your legs, still overflowing with need. 

“Please,” you sigh, parting your legs further, making room for him. He sinks into you easily, filling you perfectly, both your lips parted in pleasure. He rocks into you, pressing your body against Dave who’s holding you tight, still playing with your breasts and whispering into your ear.

“Dirty girl… You gonna give us one more?”

You’re overwhelmed by their touches, feeling so close to another high, their scent engulfing you, huge hands all over your body, a heat that’s about to scorch you. You think that you’re pleading with them, but you can’t be sure, can’t focus on anything but how good it all feels. 

Oberyn leans forward, sinking even deeper into you, pressing your legs into your chest. “Taste yourself,” he husks, connecting his lips with Dave’s. The sight of both men’s tongues intertwined, paired with the sensation of Oberyn’s cock nestled impossibly deep inside of you, is enough to tip you over the edge one more time. 

Blackness is tugging at the edges of your vision, but fire is burning in your veins, coursing through you until your whole body is left a trembling mess. When you come back to yourself, both men are holding you close, shushing you and peppering every inch of your skin that they can reach with kisses. It’s soft, it’s warm, it’s safe. It’s heaven. 

The three of you end up in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets, intertwined with one another as closely as possible. You wrap your arms around Dave, whose eyes are already closed, but he leans into the touch instantly. 

“Thank you. You were fun,” you tell him with a giggle, your heart pulsing at the sight of an earnest smile on his face, possibly the first one that you’ve seen. Oberyn’s fingers are linked with yours, wordlessly sharing the deep joy that you both feel. You fall asleep like this, in a bubble so dreamy that you wish you could stay like this forever. 

When you wake up to the sounds of birds and waves in the distance coming through the open windows in the morning, your head resting on Oberyn’s chest as sunlight is filtering into the room, the other side of the bed is empty.

Dave is gone, leaving the both of you in an apartment that looks even less personal in the daylight, with no signs of the man who you spent the night with.

thank you for reading <3 comments, reblog & asks are greatly appreciated!

[onlyfezco]

Obvious - Fezco

Summary: You insist on meeting your cousin Rue's drug dealer and an interesting friendship develops in the process.

Fezco x Reader

Word Count: 4,840

Author's Note: Started this in March of 2022 and it's finally getting posted lol. This is my first Fezco fic since Angus' passing which is so hard to type I'm crying at that. I still miss him. A lot. Dividers from @firefly-graphics

Rue was your closest cousin. Not that you had many, and the few you did have lived somewhere outside of East Highland, but that was beside the point. She was a year younger than you, so the two of you spent most of your childhood glued to one another. When her dad died, you saw the toll it took on her. You realized then that she started using but she played it off like she had it all under control. That’s what an addict does. Eventually you did confront her about it. She said it was mostly weed, so you let it slide. One day she had you drive her to restock her supply. That’s when you met Fezco for the first time.

“So you’re the guy selling my baby cousin drugs,” you blurted out after Rue did a quick introduction then started making her way to Ashtray behind the refrigerated drinks.

“Y/N, what the fuck,” Rue shouted at you annoyed. “You’re only a year older than me.”

“A year and three months,” you corrected. You only got specific with the three months to annoy Rue. You crossed your arms over your chest as you eyed the ginger sitting on the counter in front of you. “And how old are you?”

Fez observed you carefully. It’s not everyday some random person immediately brings up him selling drugs directly to his face. Especially a cute random person. “You always talk to new people like this?”

“Only when my cousin’s health is at stake.” You sighed and shook your head. “Look, I don’t have beef with you. I realized a while ago that Rue’s gonna do what she wants. I just want to make sure she’s being safe about it... well, as safe as you can get with drugs.”

Fez nodded along as you spoke understanding your concern for your cousin. He knew Rue wasn’t going around promoting that she was doing drugs or that he sold. You were just looking out for her. “I get it.”

“I’ve heard too many stories about people overdosing on Fentanyl or something they didn’t know was laced with Fentanyl. I don’t want to find out that happened to my cousin.”

“You don’t have to worry, ma. I don’t mess with that shit. All my stuff is good.”

You squinted at him taking in his words. “Better be. Otherwise I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Fez chuckled. He didn’t doubt for a second you wouldn’t fight behind Rue. “Understood.”

“You go to school with Rue? I ain’t never seen you ‘round before.” Fez went to most of the East Highland High School parties to deal. Since he’s never seen you there, either you didn’t go to that school, or you didn’t go to parties. Either way, he was missing out on you. 

“Oh God, no,” you said. “I go to Centenary.”

“Oh, so you smart smart.” You smiled and rolled your eyes at Fezco’s statement, and he decided right then and there that was something he wanted to see more of.

“Something like that,” you replied giggling.

“You ready to go, Y/N,” Rue popped up practically out of no where and asked. Damn, why did Rue have to be so quick.

“Uhh, yeah,” you said to your cousin. Rue shoved her hands into her dad’s old maroon jacket and started to walk out the store. You turned to Fezco and said, “I’m gonna be watching you, sir.”

Fez smiled at the thought. “I look forward to it, ma.”

After that, you made a few impromptu trips to Fez’s store without Rue. You told him your grandma lived in the neighborhood, which she did, so it wasn’t a lie. But Fez did point out that before Rue, you had never came to the store before. 

“I mean I could always go somewhere else for my carbonated beverages if you want,” you said as you turned on your heel to leave the store without making your usual purchase.

“Nah,” Fez replied grabbing your wrist stopping you, “I ain’t say all that.”

When your mom told you that Rue overdosed, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Maybe if you had told your Aunt Leslie what Rue was doing, she could have got some help. But you knew Rue. Ever since her dad’s death she had been struggling. She would have to finally deal with that grief if she was going to stop, and you knew that was the last thing she wanted to do.

A few days after Rue’s overdose, you went to visit Fezco. You weren’t sure if he knew or not. Even though he was her dealer, he was close to Rue, so you thought he should know. And it would be better coming from you than to hear it on the street.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N Y/L/N,” Fezco greeted you with a smile on his face. 

You tried to smile at the red head, but it was weak. “Hey Fezco.”

“What’s wrong,” Fez asked, immediately knowing something was up.

You walked to him fiddling with your fingers nervous to tell him about your cousin. “Uh... it’s Rue,” you said looking up at him with somber eyes. “She overdosed.”

Fez’s face became tense. He didn’t question it. He wasn’t shocked, just sad.

You couldn’t take looking into his piercing blue eyes any longer and set your eyes on the candy on the counter. “She’s still at the hospital going through withdrawals. Aunt Leslie’s going to put her in rehab when she gets out.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Fez said as he placed his hand on your arm to comfort you. Your eyes met his again and you could tell he genuinely felt bad.

“Its..,” you paused and laughed. “I was going to say it’s okay, but its not. She didn’t die, so that’s great but... I didn’t know it was this bad with her.”

Fez dropped his hand and leaned against the counter behind him. “Why’d you come here, ma?”

You looked at him confused. “What are you talking about? Rue’s your friend, I thought you should know.”

“She is but... you ain’t come here to blame me?”

You were taken aback. “No, Fez. It’s not your fault. Rue made a choice. And if she didn’t get her drugs from you, it would be someone else.”

Fez was quiet as he took in what you said. You wanted to, no, needed him to understand this wasn’t his fault. 

“Listen to me Fezco. Rue’s got a lot of problems that she has to deal with. She was using drugs to cope with her grief. I know you wouldn’t want her to OD. I’d rather know she was going to you for her fix, than some random guy who didn’t give two shits about whether or not she lived or died. So I don’t want you putting any of this on yourself, okay?”

Fez gave a small nod to let you knew he understood. You don’t know if he actually believed what you said, but you were glad it was out there. 

Over the summer, you visited the store more frequently. You did see him outside the store once at a pool party. Of course you pointed out that you’d never seen him at a party before. Your crowd was a little different than the East Highland High School bunch. Fez played it off though, but you knew he was only there for you. 

An unexpected hangout occurred one evening when you stopped by the store on a cloudy day. The flow of customers was already crazy slow, then it started raining and store had been empty besides you, Fez, and Ash for the last hour.  

“Aye, bro, can we go home? I’m bored as shit,” Ash said coming from behind the refrigerators. 

Fez looked to you sitting on top of the freezer that held the popsicles and ice-cream before he spoke. “Uh, yeah. Go head and pack up.”

You hopped off your self designated spot in store. “Welp, I guess that’s my queue to head home.” 

“Nah,” Fez said and stopped you in your tracks. “You ain’t gotta go home.”

“But I gotta get outta here,” you interrupted giggling. 

“Nah, ma. I was finna say you could come to my place and hang... if you want.”

Your eyebrows shot up. Fez’s and your relationship mostly consisted of you just hanging out at his store while he worked. The two of you texted every now and then, but that was about it. 

“Oh... Uh, sure,” you managed to stammer out. Then you realized that didn’t sound very enthusiastic so you added, “Yeah, I’d love to come over.”

You followed Fez and Ashtray home in your car since you drove yourself to the store. You were anxious the whole way there and the rain definitely wasn’t helping. 

Fez’s place looked homey. The living room felt familiar; the couches reminding you of your grandma’s house. 

“You want anythin’ to drank,” Fez asked making his way to the kitchen.

“Uh, no, I’m good. Thanks though,” you replied slowly making your way to where he went. It was always awkward the first time you went over to a friend’s house. 

Fez reappeared from the kitchen with a beer in his hand. He eyed you for a second before speaking. “You want to watch a movie or somethin’?”

The rest of the evening was spent on Fez’s couch, watching old 90′s movies. Even Ashtray joined you for one. It was nice. It felt normal, not like you somehow became friends with you cousin’s drug dealer.

“Oh my God, Fezzy,” you shouted excitedly. “You won’t believe- Rue,” you paused when you saw your cousin coming from the back door that led to Ashtray. You glanced at Fez, then back to Rue. “What are you doing here?”

“Just popped in for a visit,” Rue answered. Her hands fidgeted in her pockets of her dad’s jacket. 

“Unhuh...,” you hummed knowing she didn’t just stop by to see the boys.

“What are you doing here,” Rue asked curious.

“I came by to see Fez,” you stated quickly. “You just got out of rehab, Rue.”

Rue rolled her eyes at you. “Yeah, and I had no plans on staying clean. I learned my lesson cuz. I know my limits now.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “You only know your limits cause you overdosed Rue! You almost died!”

“Key word being almost.”

“Oh my God,” you shook your head again turning away from the conversation. “I’ll talk to you later, Fez,” you said then turned to walk out of the store.

“Hey, Y/N,” Rue said and you stopped in your tracks. “You’re not gonna tell my mom are you?”

You huffed exhausted by your cousin. You telling her mom should be the least of her concerns. You still faced the door but turned your head to look at Rue. Your eyes glossed over with frustrated tears. “I wish you cared about yourself like the rest of us do.” 

Two weeks went by before you saw Fez again. The ginger was starting to think you blamed him for Rue’s relapse. Even though you had told him Rue made a choice to do drugs so it wasn’t his fault, your silence made him think you thought otherwise now. 

It was Sunday afternoon when Fez heard someone at his door. He looked through the peephole and saw you, then quickly opened the door.

“What’s up, ma?”

“Hey... I went by the store first but you weren’t there. I know I should have called or something, but I just wanted to see you.”

“Nah, you good. I’m just surprised is all.”

“Is this a bad time?”

“Nah, come in,” Fez said then stepped to the side to let you in. 

“Thanks,” you replied as you walked past him. You had only been in Fez’s place once, but it felt familiar. You just stood in the entry way while Fez closed the door. “Um, can we talk?”

“Yeah, come on,” Fez said nodding towards the living room. 

Fez took his usual place on the couch and you followed suit sitting beside him.

“I’m sorry about ghosting you these last two weeks,” you said, not being able to make eye contact with him. You felt guilty for ignoring him even though your issues were with Rue. Fez just sat there quiet. He wasn’t a man of many words, but you needed him to say something. “Not to sound cliché, but it was me not you.”

“It sure felt like it was because of me,” Fez said.

You turned on the couch to face him more. “It wasn’t, Fez. I promise. I’m mad at Rue, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but she got her drugs from me and Ash. I could have told her no.”

“And then she would have thrown a fit and went somewhere else. Probably somewhere dangerous.” 

“Why you keep makin’ excuses for me? You shouldn’t be anywhere near me.”

“What,” you asked, your eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “Fez, no, I don’t want to be anywhere else but near you.” You spoke before you could realize what you were saying but it was true. Fez finally looked towards you and you averted his eyes. The silence was too loud. You were careful with your next words. “If I have to tell you every day, then I will,” you said slowly then looked back up at him. “Rue’s choice to do drugs, and keep doing them after her OD, is hers and hers alone. It’s not your fault.” 

Fez took in what you said and how it made him feel then began to shake his head. “Nah, y/n. You tryin’ to justify it still don’t make it right.”

“Fine,” you said exhausted, throwing your hands up in the air. “It’s not right! Rue coping with drugs. You selling her drugs. None of it is right, okay! But Rue is family and you’re my friend. So I’m not going anywhere,” you shouted then just fell back into the couch crossing your arms over your chest. 

Fez just watched you from his place on the couch. Anger and annoyance evident on your face. The situation sucked, but Fez didn’t want to lose you. He was worried if Rue overdosed again, not only would he lose a sister, but you would never forgive him. Regardless of how much you told him it wasn’t his fault she was on drugs, he was the supplier. But, if you wanted to keep being friends with him, who was he to tell you no. 

“Aight, ma,” Fez drawled out in his usual tone. 

“Aight what,” you asked for clarification. 

“You’re right... and stubborn,” Fez said, trying to stifle a laugh. 

You eyed him cautiously. “Elaborate.” 

Fez stayed sitting forward, but turned his head turned towards you and let it fall back on the couch. “Rue’s gonna find a way to do drugs whether or not I give them to her. She was on them before she met me.”

You uncrossed your arms resting them in your lap as you sighed feeling sorry about your cousin. You hated the mess she got in and wished for nothing more than her sobriety. While you were thinking about Rue, Fez’s hand grabbed your forearm then slid down to your hand, pulling it so it was on the empty cushion space between you two, so he could hold it.

“And you’re right about us being friends,” Fez continued. You bit your lip trying to stop your grin from getting too big, and Fez returned a small smile. 

After that day, you had seen less of Fez than you usually had in the summer. It was your senior year, so you were busy trying to keep your grades up while staying active in your clubs. You explained your schedule to Fez so he didn’t trip at the fact that he was seeing less of you. 

Things between you and Rue were strained. After you talked to Fez, you talked to your cousin and told her if she kept doing drugs you weren’t going to stick around and watch her kill herself. You were no longer holding any sympathy for what she was going through. Your Aunt Leslie and Gia managed to keep living without having their grief hold them back, why couldn’t Rue at least try? But Rue became spiteful, not caring that you were cutting yourself off from her. 

You missed how things were in the summer. No stress. Rue was in rehab so you knew she was safe. Spending afternoons at Fez’s store. Missing Fez was how you found yourself at an East Highland party. One of your friends brought it up and you were quick to agree to the outing. You knew he would be dealing at the party, and that was more than enough of a reason to go.

“Hey,” Rue said plopping down on the couch by Fez.

“What’s up, kid?”

“What’s going on with you and my cousin,” Rue asked, cutting straight to the chase. She was never one to beat around the bush.

“Whatchu mean,” Fez asked.

“Y/N doesn’t do parties. Especially not East Highland parties. And I know she’s not here for me.”

“Shit, she might be here for you,” Fez replied nonchalantly but he was hoping you were here for him. He missed seeing you on a regular basis. 

“Nah, she’s not even talking to me right now. Cut me off cause I won’t stop using. Trying to teach me a lesson or some shit,” Rue said while she rolled her eyes. “So much for family.”

“Don’t say that shit, Rue.” Fez was getting agitated, because he knew how much you cared for her. “That girl loves you. She just wants you to do better.”

“If she loved me, she wouldn’t leave,” Rue argued, her shoulders tensing up. 

“Nah, kid. That’s not how love works. She just doesn’t want to sit around and watch you kill yo’self.”

Rue sat there stunned, your words replaying in her head. “That’s exactly what Y/N told me... how much have you two been hanging out?”

Fez just shook his head as he took his blunt from behind his ear and lit it. “She misses you. Talk to her, Rue.”

You had been at the party for about an hour now. Attempting to play it cool as if Fez wasn’t the sole reason for you being there, you were trying to wait before you went and actually spoke to him. You noticed him a few minutes after you arrived. The two of you made eye contact and waved, but that was it.

Finally managing to leave your friends, you were making your way to Fezco when Rue stepped in front of you.

“Oh sor- hey Rue.”

“Hey, cuz,” Rue said. She looked... nervous. She was fidgeting with her jacket’s hood strings. Her eyes looking practically everywhere else but at you. “Um, can we talk for a sec?”

You looked past her to see Fez still sitting on the couch. Some guy coming up to him to make a deal. “Uh, yeah. Of course. Let’s step outside.”

Rue nodded, then you both made your way to the front door. There was too much going on in the backyard to have a private conversation there. You opened the door and let Rue step out into the cool night air first. 

You leaned against one of the front porch beams while Rue just stood there awkwardly and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. 

The silence between you two was awkward which was a first. You tried to wait for Rue to speak, but she struggled to find the words.

“What’s up, Rue?”

“Umm, I just- I,” Rue stammered out while she fidgeted in her spot. “Shit, I’m sorry, Y/N. We’ve never not talked to each other like this and I hate it. I miss you.”

You sighed, sorrow filling your eyes. “I miss you, too, cousin.”

Rue’s eyes glossed over as she started to smile. “Uh, I haven’t been using as much anymore.”

You reached out and placed your hand on her wrist for a moment. “That’s great.”

Rue nodded, her eyes dogging around. “Yeah... I met someone.”

“Oh,” you replied, your eyebrows rising up in surprise. You were thrilled Rue was using less, but you knew if her sobriety was because of a person, it wouldn’t last long. “Do I know them?”

“No, she’s new. Her name is Jules.”

“Jules,” you repeated, making sure you pronounced it right.

Rue nodded, her smile growing bigger. “Yeah, she’s here tonight. Pretty blonde in the bright pink mini skirt.”

“You look happy.”

She ran her fingers through her curls, pushing her hair back. “I’m working on it.”

It was quiet for a moment as you looked down at your cousin. “Hey, Rue.”

“Yeah?”

“I know we haven’t been talking, but... you know I’m here if you need me.” You placed your hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

“I know,” Rue said nodding. Then you placed your other hand on her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. Since you were on the step above her, you towered over her in the hug so you sat your chin on her head.

“Okay... you can let go now, Y/N,” Rue said after you were holding onto her a little too long.

“No, gotta make up for lost time,” you said, hugging her tighter.

“It wasn’t that much time.”

“It felt like forever,” you said dragging out the r then placing a bunch of kisses on Rue’s head.

“Ew, okay okay, I get it,” Rue said squirming in your arms. “Why don’t you go and kiss Fez?”

You stopped abruptly, pulling back slightly to look down at Rue. “Why would you say that? Did he... did he say something to you?”

Rue gently pushed herself out of your arms. “No, but it’s obvious something is happening between you two.”

“What,” you asked shaking your head, nervously running your hand over your hair. “Nothing’s happening. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, friends who wanna fuck,” Rue replied. She was always the blunt one in the family. 

“Rue!”

“Am I wrong,” she asked, her eyes on you.

“Uhh-I mean...”

“Un huh. Just tell him how you feel,” Rue said as she started to make her way back into the party.

“You say that like it’s so easy.”

Rue turned around so she was walking backwards now. “It is when the other person likes you back.” Then she turned back around and you lost sight of her in the sea of people.

“But...,” you shouted then began to whisper since you no longer saw her, “how do you know he likes me?”

Now you were nervous. You weren’t really one to flirt, at least not on purpose anyway. It was one thing to act normal around Fez and pretend you didn’t have a huge crush on him, it was another for someone to tell you he liked you and pretend to be normal. What if Rue was wrong? What if whatever sign she was getting from Fezco, was just him being a good friend, and not him being interested in you?

You made your way back into the party, but completely passed by the living room and went straight for the bathroom. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a line so you went right in. You locked the door then went to the mirror to look at yourself. Everything was still in place. Your lipstick was perfect. Your hair styled the way you liked it. Now, if only you could get that look of fear off your face. 

“Breath, Y/N,” you said to yourself. You took a long exhale then inhaled. “Rue wouldn’t lie to you... well, maybe about drugs but not about this. And it’s Fez. Just put out some feelers to see where his head is at.” You nodded at yourself then turned the faucet on to splash a little water on yourself. Then your eyes grew wide as you thought, looking at yourself in the mirror again. “But what if he’s just being nice? IT’S FEZ! He’d never intentionally be mean to me. So how will I know if he’s only being polite and not actually flirting with me. Ughh!”

You dried your hand on a nearby towel then turned away from the mirror. You took some deep breaths to try and shake off the nervous feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. “Okay. It’s fine. You’re fine.” You thought about every time you hung out with Fez over the summer. Going to his house for the first time. Him giving you candy for free at the store. Him holding your hand on his couch. Fez was a good friend and you didn’t want to lose that, but you couldn’t keep holding your feelings for the ginger in. 

“Hey Y/N,” Fezco said once you stopped in front of him. A small smile growing on his lips. Somehow his eyes managed to shimmer in the crappy living room lighting. 

“Uh can you give me a ride home? I don’t feel so hot and I can’t find my friends.”

Technically it wasn’t a lie. You didn’t feel great. Your anxiety about asking Fez how he felt about you made you sick to your stomach.

“Sure thing, ma,” Fez replied, getting up from the couch without a second thought. Add that to the list of reasons you liked Fez. He would drop everything for you. The party wasn’t done so there was still money to be made, yet here he was, walking you out the party to his car.

The ride was quiet and awkward which was unusual. You only felt awkward around Fez when you had to bring up Rue’s drug addiction. Glancing over at Fez, he was oblivious to the worry that was going on in your head. His eyes focused on the dark road ahead as he nodded along to the music. The streetlights highlighting his freckles as you drove through the neighborhood. 

“Do you like me,” you asked, interrupting Fez.

Fez’s eyes left the road for a moment confused at your sudden change in the conversation. He readjusted himself in his spot before he spoke. “Yeah, course I like you. Wouldn’t be giving you a ride home if I didn’t.”

You shook your head annoyed. “No, Fez. I mean do you like like me? Like if we were in middle school and you found a note in your locker that said ‘do you like me? Yes or no.’ Which one would you circle?”

“Oh.”

Oh. OH! What did he mean by oh. Your brain was running a mile a minute now. Fez better say something else and quick. 

After what felt like forever, but was only about 5 seconds. “Yeah... thought it was obvious I was feelin’ you.” 

You let out a breathy laugh in disbelief. “Obvious?”

“Yeah, I mean I thought you was real cute that first day you came in the store grillin’ me about what I was sellin’ Rue.” Fez chuckled to himself remembering that day.

“You thought I was cute,” you asked baffled. This was all so confusing for you. 

Fez shook his head, eyes still focused on the road. “You gonna just keep repeating everything I’m sayin?”

“Uhh, yeah,” you replied, your eyes wide trying to prosses what he was saying to you. “It doesn’t make sense and you’re being so nonchalant about this.”

“How am I supposed to be?”

“I don’t know,” you answered, your hands flailing around. “Not like this! Just a minute ago I was freaking out wondering if I would ruin our friendship, or if there was even the slightest chance you liked me back... and you do. My brain can’t comprehend.” 

Fezco put his car in park and you realized you were in front of you house. “Well, comprehend, ma.”

You slouched back in your seat staring out at the road ahead of you taking it all in. Rue was right. “What do we do now?”

Fez reached over the center console and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. “Well, we could start with a date?”

You turned at looked at Fez, biting your lip to stop your smile from getting too big. “I’d like that,” you said, nodding your head.

“Cool,” Fez said smiling. 

“Cool,” you repeated grinning right back. 

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, just staring at one another. 

“You know what. I’m feeling way better now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah... don’t think I’m quite ready to go inside yet.”

“You got something in mind?”

“Not really,” you said, pausing to think for a second. “Just not ready to leave you yet,” you replied, squeezing his hand a little while rubbing your thumb back and forth on the back of his hand.

Fezco’s checks got incredibly hotter as he looked away from you avoiding your eyes. He let go of your hand and put his car back in drive beginning to drive off then said, "I think I know a place."

[aklaustaleteller]

Not For A Long Time

Klaus returns back to his lover omega's cottage after a long time, and he wants nothing more than to just mark her as his, all over again. But all Y/n seems to want, is to eat her dinner and get on his nerves, ...and to absentmindedly rub herself all over him.

Warnings - allusions of smut, and Alpha/Omega dynamic.

Word Count - 1.3k

Masterlist | Please reblog if you like the fic!

This is something I found in my drafts and well, let's just say I wanted to get it out of there. It's quite aimless and silly, and doesn't have my best writing skills used, but I still hope you enjoy reading hahah <3 (I lowkey enjoyed writing this type of fic though, so do let me know if I should write more stuff like this!!)

A candle flickered in the middle of the kitchen island, its crackling being the only sound other than one of the running water in the sink.

The fridge was, quite carelessly, left open ajar as Y/n kept herself busy on the other end, washing the rice before she could cook it. She hummed a very gentle tune, or it could be a rock song that her soft voice just happened to make sound similar to a lullaby.

It was as she was taking out a casserole from the fridge that she felt the night wind come in with a rather strong force, freeing some of her loose hair strands from where they were tucked behind her ear.

"Klaus, how lovely it is to see you," she smiled, closing the fridge and lifting her gaze from the stove to settle it onto the charming intruder.

"Hello, love," he pursed his lips before a smirk dug out one of his dimples. "It's been quite a long time," he continued, strolling closer to her.

Shaking her head, she turned away from him to focus on the task at hand. "A week is not a long time, Klaus," she said with a chuckle.

"Not even when it's your lover Alpha that's been gone?" He asked as a whisper in her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder while snaking his arms around his waist from behind.

"I'm afraid I cannot give you the answer to that in just words," she answered, her voice having gone quieter along with his, and turned her face to press a peck on the corner of his mouth, doing it again when a smile stretched out on his lips.

He sighed then, letting his eyes fall shut as he breathed in her scent. The smell of old books, soil after it's just rained along with some hint of a rose and finally, her blood, knocked his senses out for a couple seconds.

It reminded him of the first time he had caught the whiff of her scent from a couple miles away, the full moon shining down on him and making his night-sky fur look silkier than it was. Taking advantage of being in his wolf form, he’d chased down the scent and ended up coming to a halt in front of a front garden lit up with warm lights coming from inside the cottage.

He'd seen a couple fireflies near the ivy that crept all over the walls from outside, making the building look rather earthly and older than the time itself. The noise of plates and bowls clattering didn't go amiss by Klaus, making him near the noise with deliberate steps.

Saliva coated his tongue as he finally stood just below the window, keeping himself hidden as his eyes peered inside to see a woman stirring something in a pot, sputters of laughter falling from her soft mouth as an energized dog skittered around her feet, clawing at her skirt to reach the treat she held up high in her free hand.

His lips had pulled back in a smile then, eyes unable to move on from her.

He'd returned every night since then, catching her attention on a particular one when she'd been out by the lake, crying in her knees and that was when Klaus had realised that the woman, he'd secretly been going mad after, was an Omega, left all alone when she should've been in an Alpha's arms, being taken care of in all shape and form.

And so, very calmly he'd approached her and when she'd realised that he was an Alpha wolf, she lost even that slight control over her emotions and clutched his fur as she cried into his neck, stutters and hiccups escaping her mouth until she'd calmed down and passed out, tired, in his presence.

That was the day he'd swore to himself that he wasn't going to let her end up hurt ever again. And as he took her home in his arms, silently hoping that she wouldn't wake up to catch him naked, he'd laid her in her bed when she allowed him to enter his home in a sleepy haze.

"Stay, Alpha?" she'd asked, her eyes moistening all over again and Klaus had not the heart to leave her be, causing him to lie down beside her and hold her in his arms as she purred and slept the night away, his body merely covered by her sheets.

Since that night, he'd learned that she'd been crying that day because her puppy-dog had been adopted by someone in the town who had also adopted his siblings. He would be happier with them, she'd sobbed into his arms while telling him, trying to reassure herself over Klaus.

And also, the fact that she was, indeed, an Omega yet to be claimed by an Alpha. She'd yet to give herself to him completely, to surrender herself to be his to love and care for. But Klaus understood that, accepted her past traumas and allowed her time to open up to him day by day.

"I was just preparing dinner. Care to join this lonely Omega, Alpha?" She asked, giving him her full attention after finally placing the food on the stove.

Looking at him doe eyed as he cupped her cheeks and pressed a kiss on her mouth, she whimpered when a growl rumbled deep in his chest, meant to be heard just by her.

"Of course," he accepted gently, backing her up until she was sat on the kitchen island.

She motioned for him to wait, and Klaus looked at her confusedly before he saw her blow out the candle behind her. A chuckle came from him, finding the action cute.

Y/n faced him again with a sloppy smile on her face, letting him press kisses on her mouth over and over again until he had her laughing and pulling away from him. He chased after her nonetheless -- pressing his mouth to her forehead, cheeks, nose, chin and continued to pepper kisses down her jaw.

And it was when he reached her collarbone that he truly began marking her. He left a trail of love bites behind as he scattered his kisses all over the exposed skin. Her little whimpers and moans only made him hungrier for her, making him pull her hair back, giving him more skin to mark up.

"Klaus --" she began but he cut her off with a hiss.

"Now, darling," he breathed warningly against her skin. "It’s Alpha," he corrected her.

"Pl-please, Alpha," Y/n purred, beginning to feel sensitive. "Need to turn off the stove, please," she begged him to let her get away, and Klaus did.

Lifting her off the counter, he let her wrap her legs around his waist as he walked over and turned off the stove and moved on to speed up the stairs.

He laid her on the fluffy bed that reeked of her scent but before he could lie down over her and rid her of the clothes that got in the way of his mouth and her skin, she was out of the bed and running away from him, spurts of laughter falling from her lips.

His eyes flashed golden just for a second before he was chasing after her, finding the situation rather amusing.

"I'm hungry, Alpha. Won't you eat with me?" She said out of breath when he caught up to her, snatching her from behind and into his chest.

And her giggles stopped altogether when she heard him growl, this time louder to warn her against disobeying him as she realised that she’d begun getting on his nerves now.

"Please Alpha?" She mewled for him, getting him with those eyes all over again as he accepted her pleas and took her over to the dining table, bringing her the dinner and feeding it to her whilst she sat in his lap, talking about all the happenings that she came across while he was gone, not for a long time, clearly, as she couldn’t stop absentmindedly rubbing herself all over him.

[navybrat817]

Navy. We got to cuddle with our florist. Are we also going to cuddle with our tattoo artist? 🥺

Of course, nonnie.

Traditions and Innovation

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to kiss you under the mistletoe, but it doesn't happen in the traditional sense.

Word Count: Over 1.7k

Warnings: Kissing, humor, tension, teasing, inner monologue, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

Previous Part of AU: Rules and Chaos

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I'm only capable of ficlets lately, but enjoy some Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics and Bucky edit by the amazing @nixakimbo .Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“My poor, shivering Sugar. Don’t worry. I’ll warm you up in no time,” Bucky said as he curled a hand around your hip, feeling him smile when he brushed a kiss against your temple. “It’s a tough job, but I’ll do it.”

An icy breeze crept into your bones through your coat when you rushed over to the tattoo parlor minutes ago, earning a sympathetic gaze from Jake when you walked through the door. It was one of the coldest days you could remember and you couldn’t get rid of the chill until Bucky offered to cuddle with you on the couch in the break room. You weren’t about to turn down his generous offer.

Especially since the guys made the room bright and cozy for the holidays with twinkling lights.

“Yeah, I really had to twist your arm to snuggle with me,” you teased, your heart thudding as you tilted your head back and let his lips skim along the column of your neck. It was almost criminal how soft his kisses were. “And I have no doubt in your abilities, Hottie.”

The man was built like a furnace, his firm body seeping warmth into yours as he held you in his embrace. Heat continued to pulse through your veins as he chuckled low and deep. “If you ever doubt my abilities in anything, I won’t hesitate to tie you to my bed and prove you wrong,” he promised, his voice even lower as it slipped into something more intimate.

You shivered for an entirely different reason now, threading your fingers through his hair and gripping them before his mouth could reach your chest. It earned you a throaty groan in response, one that nearly had you crawling in his lap. Somehow you managed to stop yourself.

“We can’t get too carried away,” you said, as much as you wanted to. You had to get back to your shop and he had a client coming in for a touch-up shortly. “Don’t give me that look,” you half begged, trying to ignore how your insides clenched when he lifted his head and gave you a glimpse of his darkened eyes.

How could you ever feel cold under that heated stare?

“But I want some sugar, Sugar,” he purred, one hand coming up to gently grasp your chin. Warm breath ghosted across your lips as he leaned in. “Just a little taste.”

Oh, how I want him to properly taste me. Make me see stars. Make me cry his name.

It was almost chaste in the beginning, his lips gently brushing against yours before he pulled back and leaned back in. Your lips parted first, silently begging for him to deepen the kiss. He still had his hand on your chin as he took his time, as if he truly wanted to taste what your mouth had to offer.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” he murmured when he pulled back, his gaze dropping to your lips as you caught your breath. That look alone made your toes curl. “I should put mistletoe everywhere just to find more excuses to kiss you.”

“That would be a first for me,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“What would be a first?”

“Being kissed under mistletoe. I’ve never done that,” you admitted with heated cheeks though there was no need to feel embarrassed.

Bucky pulled back a bit further as his eyebrows shot up, taking some of the warmth with him. “No one has kissed you under mistletoe? How is that possible?”

“I guess I haven’t had the opportunity,” you answered carefully.

A lump formed in your throat when he continued to stare and you weren’t quite sure why. Maybe it was because he treated you as if the sun, moon, and stars hung in the sky because of you. Not everyone saw you as anything special the way he did.

No one ever loved or cared enough about you before to try.

He slowly shook his head as if he refused to believe you. “Well, I’m fixing that right now,” he said more to himself than you before he gently put his hands over your ears. “Jensen!”

You smiled at his muffled shout before he put his arms back around you. His voice carried when he wanted it to. “Yeah?” Jake yelled back before he rushed to the break room and stuck his head in through the doorway. “What’s up?”

“Do we have any mistletoe around here?” Bucky asked.

“Bucky, what are you doing?” You whispered.

“Finding mistletoe before you go back to the shop. And, no, I’m not letting you leave until we find some,” he whispered back, waiting for Jake to give him an answer.

“I don’t think we do. Steve mentioned buying some,” he said, fiddling with his glasses before his eyes widened. “Wait! I think Hal has something that should work.”

“Of fucking course, he does,” your boyfriend mumbled affectionately as Jake went to get him.

“You really don’t have to do anything, Bucky,” you told him, turning his face back toward you. It shouldn’t have surprised you that he wanted to. He was a romantic at heart and you secretly enjoyed that he wanted to find some. “I appreciate it, but we don’t need something hanging over our heads for us to kiss.”

“I know we don’t, but maybe I want to give you that opportunity to have that kind of kiss,” he said. Your mouth went dry at his heart stopping smile. “If you’ll indulge me.”

You felt the weight of his tender gaze as you smiled, your eyes burning slightly from unshed tears. Thinking back on dating jerks like Richard, you were thankful for the experience because it showed you how guys should treat you and that you wouldn’t settle for less than what you deserved. It began with loving yourself.

“There’s no one else I’d rather kiss,” you said, resting your hand on his chest before Hal strolled into the room.

“Well, well, well,” he smiled, bringing attention to his hair as he ran a hand through it. As if he didn't turn enough heads on a normal day, he decided to dye his hair red and half green for the holiday season. “I heard you were looking for some mistletoe.”

“Yeah, you have any?” Bucky asked impatiently.

Hal chuckled and lifted his shirt slightly, giving you both a quick flash of his abs. “As a matter of fact…”

“Oh, my god,” you giggled, covering your mouth as Hal gestured to his belt. The hand painted buckle had mistletoe painted on it with “KISS ME” written underneath. “That’s…”

You stole a glance at Bucky and you swore you saw his left eye twitch. He likely had a sweet plan in his mind and got this instead. “What the fuck is that?”

“It’s mistletoe. Just like you asked for. I mean, it’s a form of mistletoe. I have a date tonight with Angel,” Hal explained, pointing at it again. You wanted to wish him good luck with his date, but you couldn’t stop giggling. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get over here, get on your knees, and start kissing. Or should I go over there?”

There was no mistaking your boyfriend’s eye twitch this time as your laughter died down. “I’m not kissing my girlfriend by your crotch. I’d sooner choke you with that belt.”

Hal seemed to consider it before he quickly shook his head. “Nah. I tried the choking thing once. Not really for me,” he said, smirking mischievously as he looked between the two of you. “But if she’s into that-”

Well...

You grabbed Bucky’s arm before he could launch himself at his employee and friend, who held his hands up in surrender. “Here’s a thought. Why don’t you take the belt off and hold it over our heads,” You suggested, hoping to appease your boyfriend as Hal unbuckled his belt with a shrug and removed it from the loops. “It still counts.”

“Not exactly traditional,” Bucky muttered under his breath before you brushed a finger along his chiseled jaw.

“We’ll call this innovative,” you said with a sweet and sincere smile. One you knew he couldn't resist.

“Innovative, huh?” Bucky asked, pulling you close as Hal waltzed over with an amused smile and dangled the belt above your heads.

“Yes,” you smiled as he framed your face. “So kiss me, please.”

Bucky held your cheeks with such care that it sent your heart soaring. This kiss was softer than before, yet full of promise and hunger, deep and thorough. He stole the breath from your lungs until you were left dizzy and wanting more.

It was the kind of kiss that warmed you up all over, like a flame no one could ever put out.

He pulled away first, slowly, but he seemed just as affected as you felt since he let out a shuddering breath and didn't let you go. “Fuck,” he whispered, bringing a smile to your face.

You had to close your eyes again to center yourself, still smiling. “Yeah. Fuck,” you whispered back before Hal cleared his throat.

“I really do adore you two lovebirds,” he began, stepping back to put his belt back on as you opened your eyes. Bucky didn't bother to look his way, only gazing at you. “But before you round the next base, Andy’s still talking about replacing the couch from the last time.”

He'll change his tune if he ever fools around in here with Sunny.

“Thank you, Hal,” you said, bringing a hand to Bucky’s cheek before he could grumble. Your touch was enough to soften his demeanor. “And thank you for my mistletoe kiss. I'll never forget it.”

Just like your first date that didn't go as planned, it made it all the more special.

Bucky smiled before he helped you both get to your feet. You had to get back to work. “I'm glad you liked it, but I’m getting us some actual mistletoe later and putting it all over our apartments. Bedrooms included.”

“Is that innovative?”

“Yeah, it is,” he smiled, sneaking in one more tender kiss before you had to go.

As long as Bucky would be the one to kiss you, he could put up mistletoe wherever he wanted.

These two. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[achillean-heartbeat]

Listening to the AWTWB Baz playlist Rainbow Rowell has posted on spotify is... devastating.

i am in love with all of Rainbow's playlists and her annotations on her site. i absolutely love how much thought she puts into them in relation to her characters, and how much you can find Simon and Baz in their respective playlists.

But the AWTWB: Baz playlist, specifically, holds a special place in my heart...

The absolute fucking SOFTNESS from the first song till the very last... while listening i can SEE Baz cradling his own vulnerable bleeding heart in his hands and holding it out to Simon no matter the consequences...

I will never shut up about Rainbow's playlists for her characters. They're so good they make me weep everytime i listen.

Edit: Fuck it.

Here's all the specific lyrics in the AWTWB: BAZ playlist by Rainbow Rowell on spotify that made me physically clutch my heart from pain (and love. For Baz.):

"We thought love was something, we weren't meant to find, but now you're a stranger"

"but you don't remember, August honey, you were mine."

"I can't forget those earlier days, when i was in your heart, Now you take my hand, and it's as cold, as when you speak."

"Cannot count the ways you used to love me, But I can count the ways you used to try"

"The cries are just the start, To a fallen angel, While one hand takes the cross, Another lights the candle"

"would you feel, together and inebriated, enabling of a fable, we were never meant to be but together."

"I want say what lovers say to you, I want to feel what lovers feel with you, I want to do it with you. Would you be my lover?"

"Remember the time you told me love was touching souls, Surely you touched mine 'cause part of you pours out of me."

"You're in my blood, you're my holy wine. You taste so bitter and so sweet. Oh I could drink a case of you darling"

"You felt shelter somewhere in me, I find great comfort in you, And I keep you safe from harm, You hold me in your arms"

"I've got your back, And though, it's stacked against us, I've got your hand, It's us against consensus, And I will burn, The people who hurt you"

"You know it's time that we, Grow old and do some shit, I like it all that way"

"Won't you please let me go?, These words lie inside they hurt me so, I've Lost you, I've Lost you, I've Lost you."

"Please don't let me hit the ground, Tonight I think I'll walk alone, I'll find my soul as I go home."

"Looking out at endless snow, Waiting in the silence, If you won't spill your heart, I'll chase you for the worst you owe."

"You are the answer to my question, You are my accomplice in a crime."

"In the twilight they danced and played, The fireflies they go light like cray, In the dreaming we struck each other, and prayed, for pain."

"Two melting candles against the sun, Modern angels they broke our wings in the wind, For what?"

"But when I'm asleep, I want somebody, Who will put their arms around me, And kiss me tenderly"

"Who knows how long I've loved you, You know I love you still, Will I wait a lonely lifetime, If you want me to, I will."

The more i listen to this playlist, the more i cry, the more i ache over baz and the unconditional love this boy, this man, holds in his heart.

Thank you @rainbowrowell.

[unholyhelbig]

I just want to say I'm already hooked on the beast you made me. I can't wait for the next chapter!

Center picture Cred: Jadiakallisti

Title: The Beast You've Made of Me [Part 2/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Wordcount: 5151

Summary: When reader wakes up in her own grave, she's suddenly aware of a past that spans lifetimes, but she's not the only one. Two Avengers are tasked with keeping readers past a secret, or at the very least, controlled.

Warnings: Blood, fatal injuries, animal bones, mentions of death, containment, and horrible grammar because I don't proofread

[a/n: Thank you all for the overwelming support on the first chapter! I truly didn't expect that much reception. I'm going to be traveling for the next week so the next chapter might be delayed a bit]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

1917, Rural Pennsylvania

A sweeping river cut through the patch of sweetgrass on the south side of the farm. It emitted a gurgling sound that often soothed your nerves. There was a rocky clearing sandwiched between the tree line and the plain of grass that had become a perfect spot for you to settle in and read the hard-covered books you’d gotten from the corner store.

Your father would bring back any book you requested from the city during his travels. You devoured them faster than he could provide them and had read ‘Eight Cousins’ ,Lousia May Alcott’s foray into the adventures thirteen-year-old Rose, enough to nearly tear the pages from the binding.

The book itself held the clean honeyed scent of the earth, of the secluded spot that you called your own. Your muscles would thrum from loading the bales of hay into your fathers ford. Your fingers were calloused, and dirt caked around your ankle in a dark ring. All of that vanished when you cracked open the book about a girl that was so much like yourself.

It was easy to lose yourself in the paragraphs, the hum of the river sometimes lulling you to sleep. Your mother would pack you a sandwich on warm, hand-kneaded bread, usually some salted meat and mayonnaise. She’d pack sweet tea and send you on your way, knowing that you wouldn’t return to the house until you saw a flicker of a firefly.

Today, you’d fallen asleep under the sun. The book was discarded, and your forearm draped across your eyes. It was easy to drift, and easier still to dream about leaving the small dairy farm for something bigger- the very city that your father would return from with new literature and arts, and spices that made your mouth buzz with flavor.

You were in a haze when the ear-piercing scream cut through the air as if it were a natural solid. Your ears pinched at the sound, heels digging into the coarse sandy shore. Maybe it was a dream. It could have been an animal that had sunk its pointed teeth into the artery of another.

So, you waited, panting with your heart in your chest and the corner of the book barely lapped by the muddied water. And there was this sound. It was no fox caught in a trap or bovine tangled up in the barbed wire fence around the property- no, this was familiar. This was your sister.

Helena was quiet, often described as demure and borderline submissive. Despite being younger than yourself she carried a certain poise about her. Mother would often boast about how she would have no trouble finding a husband, how the boys already fawned over the child of hers that was not feral and unkempt.

Her cry was the loudest you had ever heard her and it had you on your feet, scrambling up the bank. Once past your small world of wonder, you were greeted with an endless sea of sweetgrass that was waist high in some areas.

A warm breeze created waves against the landscape, the farmhouse a small speck among the expanse of land. Your head was spinning, it was hard to track exactly where it had come from. It took another cracking screech to set you North.

Your legs pumped until you were consumed in a blind speed. You’d been renowned for your quickness, for your dedication to get from point A to point B. The kids in your town often joked that you were steadier than a steed. Not only were you the fastest in the class, but the fastest in the county according to some. Still- only a child of fifteen, and no man would want to wed someone with speed. It wasn’t a practical skill.

There was a pit deep in your stomach whirled, instinct knowing precisely where Helena was yowling from.

Jorge had gotten there at the same time you did; his brow was leaking with sweat and he panted against the hot air that surrounded you both. Your older brother was tall and lanky, serpent-like with beady black eyes and pitch hair to match your father’s. His shirt hung low against his midsection, his skin pale despite his hours in the sun working the fields.

“Stay back, y/n.” He demanded sharply.

The old well was a mere foot in front of you both but neither made the effort to move forward. The aged wooden plank that covered the stone shaft had been splintered through the middle, worn from age and weather.

Helena’s soft cries echoed up. When your father had first acquired the property, the previous owners explained that it had been boarded up after of the bulls had fallen down and snapped it’s neck. It was too large to pull out and they left it to starve and then rot.

Your father never let any of his children peer down into the well. You wondered if something had pulled Helena here, or if she had simply forgotten of it’s existence. Jorge dropped down to his knees and did a cautious crawl as if his own two feet couldn’t’ hold him anymore.

You saw the exact moment his skin became waxier, almost a gray porcelain paleness that had a green tint. He was swallowing too much, his white shirt coated in the red clay dirt.

“What?” You asked, voice breaking “What is it?”

“Go get Mama.”

It would have been easy to listen to your brother. He was the man of the house when your father wasn’t there but with him pleading for your mother, for an adult, you got a rancid taste in your mouth.

Against your better judgement you edged close enough to the abandoned well. The sun was setting in a fire-filled orange haze with enough color and angle to get a good view of the bottom; a slosh of fallen grass and rainwater, and muck, and yes; the bones of a beast once left to decay and rot in its own silence.

Your sister was wedged within the ribcage of the befallen bull, almost as if she replaced the beating heart that stopped pulsing long ago. Her hands gripped at the sun-bleached bone, knuckles nearly the same color.

It took you a moment to make out the slick, and the red that stemmed from the center of her stomach. The head of the bull had shattered under her weight, all expect the stretching length of it’s curved horn. That was wedged through her abdomen, surrounded in a vibrant rose red that puddled and had already coated her hands.

Prints from her struggle were against the limestone edges of the well. Her eyes pleaded up at you; your kind and caring, and animal-loving sister was trapped inside the remains of one. You fought back the urge to vomit, the rash thought that if the bone ripping through her flesh didn’t kill her, then infection would.

“Y/n get mama!” Jorge hissed again, and this time you didn’t hesitate. You nearly tripped over your own boots with the fever it took to back away from the scene, the metallic scent of blood mixing deliciously with the turn of rotted soil.

You had never run so fast in your life.

Wanda Maximoff had never felt the cold that wormed its way to her bones before. It was the type of cold that almost wasn’t, a stinging, horrible feeling that had her startled from the folded metal chair. It collapsed within itself as the blinked the wine-dark color from her eyes.

She stumbled backward, only to be brought back to the starkness of the room by a soft grip on her elbow. Wanda allowed herself to be held, if not for stability but for comfort. Steve Rodgers had a welcoming hand on the small of her back, the other steadying her.

He was a solid force, and her reaction stirred him.

“Fuck,” the expletive fell from her lips, “Jesus Christ.”

There was quietness to the room in the aftershock of the fallen chair. It was nicer than a standard holding cell. The walls were cream colored, triple enforced to keep people like you inside. There was a bed bolted to the wall, a bunk that was almost like a summer camp endeavor.

A charged glass wall was blocking you from the rest of the world. It was seemingly unbreakable, and in this moment, so were you. Wanda didn’t want to test the glass, nor did she know how to make sense of the memories- your memories- that had flooded every inch of her body.

You were asleep, chest rising and falling at a normal pace, as if none of what Wanda had just seen was flitting around your mind. Soft snores pushed past your lips, one arm hanging over the side of the bed while the other followed the flow of your breathing as it rested on your chest.

Wanda didn’t understand the secrecy and the precaution that surrounded you. The Avengers compound was a constant ebb and flow of different heroes, Inhumans and mutants. What made you so different? What made you an 0-8-4?

It was a term that Natasha had used only once that was usually attached to objects, not a person. It was an object of unknown origin and in that case, it was a power-filled object from space. Space. She’d been through different dimensions, but that, for some reason, struck her as terrifying.

0-8-4’s were never brought here, but then again, they’d never been alive either. Steve had told her that your energy signal was off the charts, and that they wanted her to dig around your head. Something that she denied doing at first. It was an invasion of privacy.

But, there was a certain pleading within Captain America’s eyes that scared Wanda more than the personal rules she set for herself when it came to her power. What she had seen, what she had felt was barely scraping the surface of what your mind contained. She wasn’t keen on pushing past that barrier for the conclusion of that story. Was it even yours?

“What? Wanda, what is it?”

“I… I don’t” She shook her head, eyes hardening as she stared into Steve’s “Where did you find her?”

He hesitated to answer, his eyebrows furrowing before he looked away from the witches’ prying eyes. She’d been part of this team for years now and they were still reluctant with what they were willing to share. Wanda clenched her jaw, then unclenched it before her stare flashed back to your resting form.

There was a small frown that creased your features. You looked so… harmless. You had shifted, folded into yourself as if you were scratching the surface of what flashed before her. Your arm was folded under your head, knees flush to your chest. A small, beautiful whimper escaped you.

“She’s in distress, Steve.”

“Discomfort, more like. It’s better for all of us that she stays in there for right now. The last thing we want to do is harm anyone but if that requires some temporary-“

“Imprisonment?”

“Containment.” He said firmly, eyes hard. Wanda crossed her arms over her chest but stayed silent, letting him continue. She was sure she wouldn’t have been asked if not for her ability to worm her way into minds, to rearrange things. “What did you see?”

“A memory, one that can’t possibly be hers. The timeline doesn’t fit, this is a woman in her mid-twenties and who I saw was barely a teenager on a farmstead. To experience that much tragedy, that much fear and heartache.”

She started to pace, trying to not only work through her own thoughts, but yours as well. It could have been a story, and she was convinced of the fact save for the vividness. There was the feeling of grass tickling her arms and the sharp, undeniable stench of blood.

“Her younger sister died, fell through some rotted wood and fell to her death.” Wanda’s fingers pressed against the edge of her hairline. “She could have lived, but I have my doubts.”

He lifted a perfectly sculpted brow at her. His expression betrayed his compassion towards you, his stance uncomfortable with the topic. While the revelation was heartbreaking it hardly made you extraordinary. They’d all lost people, none had stirred Wanda as you did.

Wanda’s stare found his after darting to you once more, “Steve, I have the sinking feeling that what I saw was only scratching the surface. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of memories that were pressing in on all sides.”

The sensation of being observed is what pulled you from your fitful sleep. Exhaustion had washed over you like a tidal wave, all at once and leaving your mouth dry like a spoonful of salt. There was a stiffness that rivaled that of the grave you’d crawled out of, and you hoped that it was all a dream.

You were in your bed, in your apartment, after having one too many drinks. It was a horrible stretching nightmare that had plunged you into one sea of darkness from another. But even you weren’t that naïve.

Just as you felt a stranger’s eyes on you now, you had felt the dirt under your nails, the cold sodium-filled takeout as you attempted to chew it. More than anything, you remembered the burning feeling of the Black Widow pressed fully against your back, bending you over Jenn’s kitchen counter.  

“I would prefer if you kept the feeling of my wife’s body against yours out of your mind.”

You shot up with a dizzying amount of quickness, heart suddenly in your chest. There was an imbalance to the bed that you were laying on. It was smaller than your own and unfamiliar. The room was stark white. It hurt your eyes and you had to blink the color away. You pressed the heels of your palms close to your eyes.

It felt as if you were locked in a glass shower with an audience and stage lights. The more you looked, the more you realized it was a room, something with no personal effects but a bed and a dimmer switch that you itched to utilize.

A pitcher of water was on an end table. It wasn’t color exactly, but it was more than the rest of your surroundings. Possibly with the worst manners you’d ever exhibited, you drank straight from the pitcher, not remembering the last time you had a drink. Suddenly, you were parched enough to soak your collar.

Despite your audience, you continued until you felt your stomach protest. You used the back of your hand to wipe away the moisture, black dirt was smeared across your skin. It was then, and only then, that you forced yourself to look past the walls of your prison, your enclosure.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” The woman said, walking close to the glass. You could see her clearly now, there was an heir of recognition about her, in the same way that there had been with the Black Widow.

“You were in my head.”

“For a while. It’s my job. But your thoughts are also deafening.”

“Sorry,”

This woman was intoxicating. Alluring and beautiful in her presence. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt hugging her form. You weren’t positive what time it was- what day it was- but it could be late into the night. She looked like she was roused from sleep, and a part of you felt guilty for the fact.

“Don’t apologize, sweetie.” Her voice was much more tender than it had been a few moments ago. “You can’t control being brought back from the dead. A lot of trauma comes with that.”

You stood shakily and walked closer to the glass. They’d taken your shoes and the tile under your feet was frigid. You crossed your arms over your chest and shivered into yourself. You didn’t want to think about the fact that they had undressed you, probably taken your clothes for testing. Instead they left you in a blue set of scrubs.

You averted your stare from your own reflection, not willing or ready to look too hard. You’d much rather look at this stranger, your heart not slowing, your head pounding. Nothing but a simple pane of glass separated you.

“And I was brought back from the dead, wasn’t I? That wasn’t a fucked-up dream where I got hit by a car and then poof God, if there is one, decided that me of all people was worth bringing back.”

She lilted her head, quirked an amusing brow at you. A chill flushed down your spine and seemed to fizzle out at your toes. This woman was gorgeous and terrifying and made you want to squirm. But if this was prison, you had to assert dominance. Right? That’s what Wentworth taught you.

This cell didn’t look or feel like Wentworth, and this Warden had an amused smile tacked to her lips like she had heard your every thought. And she had. At least you assumed that she did. She’d mentioned her wife earlier, and the woman’s body against your own was plaguing you like a runaway freight train.

When she didn’t say anything, you clawed to fill the silence “I want to talk to Bruce.”

“Bruce? Honey, he’s off world.”

“Off… world.” You laughed, softly at first but then almost manically, tears forming in your eyes that you wiped away with your cold fingers. “No, no, that’s really cool. I worked a 9-5 and now I can’t talk to Bruce because he’s in Outer Space.”

“Maybe not outer space, maybe another dimension.”

You leveled her with a humorless glare. She had both of her hands up as if she wanted to comfort you, or the caged animal you had become. You had to give her credit, she seemed just as horrified as you were. She offered up a dim, faltering smile.

There wasn’t a way for you to process this in a gentle manner, there was no one to guide you through it other than Jenn. She’d done this before, lived a whole life that was flipped upside-down and she’d come out on the other side. It was the uncertainty that scared the hell out of you.

“You were in my head earlier,” You stopped suddenly, pressing your fingers against the glass. The woman didn’t flinch. Your frantic breath fogged with each exhalation. “Do you know why I came back?”

She shook her head, “No. Do you remember what you were dreaming about?”

“No.” A weak chuckle, you let your hands drop. “At least we’re on the same page.”

The nurse they allowed to enter through the side of the containment unit took cautious steps towards you that made your chest ache. All your life, people had said how welcoming and kind you were; how they were never afraid to come to you with their worries. It had bothered you before the incident, before your death, but now you missed seeing the stare of those who didn’t harbor any fear.

She was small, a mouse of a thing that had pale blonde hair and startling blue eyes. Her name tag read Julia. Your mind rushed with the paths she’d taken to this place. She must be interning here, much too young to hold a classification herself.

Your finger twitched on your knee, palm sweaty. It’s heat radiated through the thin blue fabric of the pants they’d provided you with. You hated needles, always had. But, you struggled to stay still and the effect that had on poor nurse Julia was making you fidget more.

There was a scent about her. It was under the layers of hairspray, nail polish, and shea butter. It was a sweet metal that made your stomach swirl. Was it her sweat? You’d never smelt anything past walking by the bomb that was the boys locker room, and it certainly had never been this tantalizing before.

Your eyes met hers, crystal blue and uncertain. “You’ll just feel a little pinch”

This is when you pulled your gaze back and instead focused on the cream colored walls. There was no problem with needles, you’d dutifully sit for your flu shots, but something about the sharp edge pushing through a layer of skin and fat before hitting your vein made you nauseous.

“We just need enough to run a few tests.” Julia soothed.

She was a normal nurse in that one, small way. Your mind was itching, blood seeming to congeal. It refused to cooperate and her burning touch was all but dominant against your skin. You both waited for the small tube to fill with black liquid. 

Finally, you felt her press the gauze against the crook of your arm and withdraw the needle. Another small pinch and then a massive relief. Her smell hung around you and filled the room. There was an undeniable urge to sink your teeth into her. To taste her.

You’d stopped the elevator just hours before to assess your penchant for brain consumption, but this wasn’t that. This was an intoxicating pull. This was animalistic, the same rush of emotion that had flooded you without prompting during your earlier conversation.

Julia squeezed your shoulder calmly, not entirely over her own reservations, but on the penance that she was a nurse and this was her job. You kept yourself rooted to the bed, fingers digging into the wood. She left the room and you could hear the compressed lock reseal you inside, breathing a sigh of relief.

That sweet odor lingered, and your reaction to it scared you more than anything. The wood beneath your fingertips splintered, and suddenly that anger, that fear, rolled away to shock. That wasn’t… normal. None of this was normal, but you weren’t exactly picked first in sports either.

You were a middle kid, a I guess I wouldn’t mind having you on my team kid. Suddenly your fingers were cutting through wood like it was butter. You let out an indignant squeak and shifted the blanket until the slashes were covered.

“Is everything alright?”

Wanda, you had learned that her name was Wanda, occupied her usual spot in front of the window. A slick sweat covered your forehead. She was holding a small tray that had a steaming bowl of soup and a delicious hunk of French bread.

“I figured you were hungry,” She lifted her chin towards the panel next to your door. “May I?”

“I’m at your mercy.”

And you were, truly. You hadn’t seen anyone but her since you’d woken up. There were shadows of others, people that made the pit in the center of your stomach grow three sizes. You knew exactly what they were doing, you watched enough true crime with Jennifer to know.

Here was this beautiful and powerful woman offering you food and words of comfort, and you allowed yourself to fall for all of it. Listlessly. Because what did you have to lose? You’d already died, and the thought of putting your family through the heartache of resurrection and then possibly enough committal to the ground was too much.

So, let her Stockholm syndrome you. The food smelled divine.

Wanda didn’t hold the same fear that Julia had. In fact, once the compression of air signified that it was okay for her to enter, she did so without hesitation. She set the food down on the equally dull side table and lowered herself onto the corner of the bed, making herself at home.

She’d changed into a pair of jeans, a simple t-shirt that had the outline of SHIELD on its sleeve. You frowned, for a company that does everything in its power to keep itself hidden, they sure loved that stupid bird so much.

“Go on, sweetie. You can eat.”

Wanda had a command about her that made you fold and listen despite any reservations. You took up a spot on the far end of the bed and shoveled the first spoonful into your mouth. An explosion of heady flavors coated your tongue, coaxing a low moan from your lips.

Blush rushed to your cheeks at the spark in the set of stormy eyes that watched you like a hawk. You rushed to break the tension. “So, what’s the plan here? Run a bunch of tests and keep me locked up?”

“Somewhat.” She paused, carefully thinking of her next words. “Y/n, I have the ability to get inside the psyche. Not only can I read every thought, every action, but I can control them too. It’s not something I like to do, nor something I want to. Not without permission.”

You frowned again. You certainly hadn’t given her permission to enter your mind before, and she tensed at the realization. But, you took another bite of soup and swallowed down the spiced broth. What’s done was done. You didn’t expect her to ask, much less admit to her wrongdoing.

“I prefer to ask. Can you tell me what you do for work?”

“Paralegal, the bar seemed like too much stress. But I’m good at my job. I was good at my job before a car turned me into sidewalk art.”

“Right, and your family, what about them?”

There was no desire to think of them and their perfect lives that you’d shattered with your death. Your mother used to sit in the tepid air on the porch swing, downing a glass of wine before she turned to you with tears in her eyes. She’d urge you to be careful working in the city. She’d plead for you to come home. More than anything, she’d utter the phrase a mother should never outlive her daughter.

“My mother is a seventh grade biology teacher and my father runs a painting business that’s been operating my whole life. They’re not very exciting people. They must be worried sick about me.”

Wanda nodded, “Any siblings?”

“Not anymore.”

She stilled at your words and didn’t pry. You were well aware of the fact that she could push through your deflections and learn the information that she wanted to know. But, you respected that she didn’t. Instead, she stared at you, and you stared right back, suddenly not hungry.

Wanda was someone that you felt the need to open-up to. Unlike the brief encounter you had had with her wife. Not that you let that word stick with you, not in the same way that her touch did. Again, you had to push the thoughts to the back of your mind, even if Wanda wasn’t prying.

Instead, she placed a warm hand on your thigh, sending a wave of shivers through your body. You suppressed a whimper at the sudden contact.

“I had a brother named Pietro. He was fast, unnaturally so. Neither of us ever wanted to be heroes, we didn’t think about the future like that. So, when the Avengers, these so-called saviors of the world, recruited us, we knew about the dangers. But it still shocked me when he died. He was my brother. He wasn’t supposed to be fragile like that.”

You stared at her with an amount of tenderness in your eyes that she wasn’t used to from the others. They cared, sure, but in the way that a co-worker would care enough to purchase cut flowers and a ‘sorry for your loss’ card. You were different.

“They’re our protectors.” You swallowed hard, mouth dry “when something drastic happens, it doesn’t seem real.”

“It still doesn’t.”

There was a lapse of silence that pushed memories in your direction. The burning cold weather on the day your own brother had died. You remember the scream that died in your throat and the way you’d knelt in the cracked snow until you couldn’t’ feel your legs or your fingers. It took an EMT with a heated blanket and a horror story about hypothermia to pull you to your feet.

“Jonathan.” You whispered.

She let out a questioning hum, pulling her feet from the floor and making herself more comfortable on the less-than-comfortable bed. “Your brother?”

“My older brother. I followed him around like a lost puppy, but he never complained. He was a hockey player and a damn good one too. He’d use the lake behind our house in Jersey to practice and one winter the ice broke underneath him. He drowned, and I was too weak to save him.”

Wanda let out a shuddered breath. You couldn’t read her facial expression. It was a mix of confusion, or sadness, but not pity and that was something you appreciated. You’d had enough pity, just as your family had enough grief without you adding to it.

She opened her mouth to reply, but both of you were startled when three quick knocks shattered the silence. The Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, stood on the other side. She showed no interest in breeching the containment unit. Instead, she leveled her wife with a dark stare and held up a folded piece of paper.

“Excuse me,” Wanda whispered, giving your leg a settling squeeze.

She left the plate and exited the holding cell. Her words were muffled, but those unripe green eyes that Natasha possessed kept flicking to you nervously. She too, didn’t’ show pity. It was interest and if you were being honest, you thought you saw the smallest spark of fear.

Wanda took the paper from her wife, squinted at something you couldn’t’ see. You felt like you were at a parent teacher conference, just out of bounds of hearing but you could see their body language; the way that Natasha itched to move closer to Wanda, the fingers that the taller woman pressed to her lips, thumb creasing the paper.

Finally, Wanda turned back towards the glass. Natasha met your stare without issue, hitting the intercom on the other side of the cell. It was her who spoke, her raspy voice falling from the speaker.

“In the spirit of transparency, we want to be honest with you about your blood results.”

You stood from the bed, moving to one side of the barrier. They were intimidating like that, standing shoulder to shoulder with a natural beauty. It made you want to shrink. If not for the paper in their hands you would have curled into yourself at the sight.

“Don’t tell me I’m dying.”

“No, honey.” Wanda shook her head, “Quite the opposite, you’re getting stronger.”

“I don’t understand.”

Natasha lifted an eyebrow and pressed the paper against the glass so you could read it. None of it made sense, it was lines of DNA that looked like musical notes. You shook your head, giving her a confused look.

Natasha scoffed, peeling the paper from the surface of glass. Wanda bit her thumbnail nervously. “According to these…You’re Asgardian, Kitten.”

[Taglist💕: @dannipotatoo, @non-binary-frogking, @mysticalmoonlight7, @metanoiablxxm, @coxlong, @b3nzzzzz, @simpforlizzie, @delulu-bayolet-era, @dorabledewdroop, @crescentcrush, @roselockwood, @ellieromanov, @leenasayeed, @theowlappears, @pitifulbinx, @pepemyfantasy, @tekanparadiae, @skittlebum, @mariabeloskivismyoc, @natsbiggestfan1, @marvelwomen-simp, @cinffy23, @kyky-maximoff, @natalierushmansstuff, @bstvst, @lezzylover, @404-almostdone, @mishimrno, @maxidentbby, @shayarshucky, @merlinsouls, @neothepotato]

[theereina]

Bad News Pt. 1

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +3K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), vomit, *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, chronic illnesses mentioned

A/N¹: Remember, I just got back into writing. I'm open to critiques, but I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Since coming home, I had been sitting on the bedroom floor for what seemed like hours. I had done nothing since I had returned home. I had disassociated as soon as I hit the door. Today was only adding to the mess that my life had become. I received the dreaded phone call from my doctor's office early this morning. He said I would need to return immediately for surgery, a surgery that would possibly change my life forever.

My mind was all over the place, and all I wanted was Terry. My Terry. He would know how to help me get through this. I just had to explain everything to him and lay it all on the table. He deserved upfront honesty since this news would affect him, too. It would affect the life we wanted and planned to have.

I had come to the South to spend time with him because I needed to rest. Too much has happened over the last month. I had lost my job because my health was deteriorating rapidly. I was still fighting in court with my mother over the money my aunt left me. After the last storm, my apartment had a severe water leak, so I had to move in with my godmother and godsister on the West Coast. Luckily, we stayed in the same city.

When the doctor called today, I had tried my best to prepare for the news I already knew. The doctor said he found something during the original exam, leading to a biopsy, ultrasound, and MRI. The results from those were even worse.

As I was anxiously waiting, my heart was beating out of my chest again, and I could feel the growing lump in my throat. My body was getting hot, and I wasn't even remembering to breathe. I loathed this feeling. The feeling of anxiety overtaking my body without my permission. Not again. Not now. Not at the one moment where I needed to talk without panicking and rushing through my words. Of course, anxiety had to make an appearance.

I lay on my back in the middle of our bedroom floor and crossed my arms around my body as if I were hugging myself. “Breathe, Bella. Breathe,” I said inhaling and exhaling sharply. Every inhale felt like there were razor blades in my lungs. Oh, no.

I leaned on my elbows and quickly scanned the room for my purse. I needed my phone so that I could at least text Terry. I couldn't breathe right now so talking wasn't an option. The tears in my eyes were begging to be released. I held them in as best as I could. “Don't cry, Bella. Don't. Please, don't,” I said to myself holding my head back forcing the tears to retreat slightly.

My purse was behind me thrown against the master bathroom door. I turned over and crawled towards my handbag. I grabbed the strap of my crossbody and pulled it towards me. Sitting on my knees with the purse in my hands, I flipped it upside down and dumped out all of its contents. My wallet, lip gloss, compact mirror, lip liner, coins, crumpled cash, receipts from today, and phone all thudded onto the floor ahead of me.

I grabbed my phone but instantly dropped it as a sharp pain shot through my chest like lightning. The pain lasted mere seconds but was enough to break me. The tears that I was holding in were now streaming down my face. I was bawling my eyes out through ragged breaths. Fuck. I grabbed the phone from the floor and searched for Terry's number through blurred vision. I used the back of my hand to wipe my eyes. My eyes took painfully long to come back into focus enough for me to make out the letter T at the beginning of a contact. Luckily, I recently messaged him, so I clicked on the thread. I could see the heart I sent Terry earlier as the last message. I quickly tried to calm my breathing a little more and sent Terry a text. It only told him to come home ASAP.

My eyes were beginning to sting, and my sight was blurring again. I waited for at least a few minutes before looking down at the phone again. No response. I was panicking, so I sent a copy of the same text multiple times hoping to alert him to my current state of distress.

“Please, Terry. Save me. I need you,” I thought to myself. I looked up at the ceiling. I needed him to at least call me. Just a call. He would hear my voice and know. That's all I need right now. I waited and still nothing. I decided to call Terry myself. Two rings, then I was sent to voicemail. No way. He didn't just decline and ignore my call. He never does that.

I clutch my hand to my chest and breathe out through my mouth. I call him once again. Same result — voicemail. I sent another text. This one told him I was having an anxiety attack. I put the phone beside me. I repositioned myself in a hunched-over position with my forehead touching the carpet. I was praying that Terry would call.

*3 hours later

I had managed to get on the bed. I didn't even remember moving or falling asleep. I was just so out of touch with reality currently, disassociated and detached. I awoke to my entire body aching. I leaned up on the bed and slid to the bottom edge. My head was pounding, and the feeling was making me nauseous. The room seemed to be spinning. Trying to calm myself again, I sat there for a moment.

I knew I looked like shit. My phone was still on the floor. “Shit!” I yelled. I went into an instant panic. What if Terry called, and I missed it? What if he texted while I was in such a deep sleep? I slid down the edge of the bed letting my butt thud to the floor. I reached for the phone bringing it to my chest. I hoped that I hadn't missed him.

I unlocked my phone to see no missed calls and no new messages. What the fuck? That couldn't be right. I checked that I had service and hadn't accidentally turned on DND or airplane mode. Nope, I hadn't done either. This wasn't right. Terry would have at least texted me back.

I rushed to get up from the floor with the phone still in my hand. I headed out into the hall to see if Terry was inside. “Baby? Terry? Are you here?” I yelled walking into the living room. It was empty and so was the kitchen. I walked towards the large bay window in the living room and peered out. His truck wasn't there either. Where was he?

I tried to call Terry again. Now, it was going straight to voicemail. I left a brief message asking for him to come home and let him know about the panic attack. I hung up, and I sent a message again.

Now, I was starting to worry. This wasn't like him. Was he hurt? Was he in jail? Admittedly, Terry does sometimes have a bit of a temper.

Immediately, I tried calling his father. It rang and rang. He picked up and answered in his usual manner. “Jed speaking,” he said. “Hi, have you seen Terry? I've been trying to reach him for hours,” I said rushing out every word. “Whoa, slow down. I haven't talked to him since this morning, baby girl. Let me ask Linda. Linda! Linda!” he yelled away from the phone. I could hear her answer from the other room. “Ya’ talked to Terry since mornin’?!” he yelled back. I could overhear her respond “No”. “I'm sorry, baby. Neither of us have heard from him. I do know that he went downtown to see if he could get some more help for Mike,” he said. “Mike?” I asked confused. “Yeah,” he started, “Them folks decided to keep him, and Terry is supposed to be going to get him out.”

“I knew about Mike gettin’ locked up, but that's ‘bout it. Terry hasn't said much,” I said putting the pieces together. “Well, that's ‘bout all I know. If we hear from him we'll tell him to call you. M’kay?” he said. “Yes, sir,” I said before ending the call.

I was too afraid to leave the house because I wanted to be there if Terry returned. I sat down on the couch and waited in silence. I was checking my phone every minute for any new calls or messages. Nothing.

I had been waiting for at least an hour in complete silence on the couch when my phone rang. I saw Terry's name on the screen and immediately answered it. “Baby—!” I started to speak. “Bella, can you chill?” Terry barked through the other end. I paused for a second. “Terry, I was worr—,” I tried to speak again. “The hell did you call my parents for? I'm trying to figure out all this shit with Mike. Give me a fucking break. Will you?” he yelled. “I understand that now, but Terry—,” I said before hearing him hang up.

I couldn't believe it. He had yelled at me and hung up on me. What the hell? I wasn't aware of the severity or urgency of Mike's situation. It wasn't like Terry was telling me anything. This was one of the biggest issues in our relationship. Communication between us wasn't always the best or healthiest. In stressful moments, I found it hard to express myself in any capacity, and Terry barely talked at all. I just really needed to talk to him about the call I received from the doctor.

Then again, maybe I was being too overbearing. He needed to focus on Mike, right? You know what? I just needed to relax. Breathe and fucking relax. Terry just needed space. He would come home, we would talk, and everything would be fine. There was no need to make this situation worse than it was.

I waited for another hour. I was lying on the couch and cuddled under my blanket. I had started dozing off when I heard the door open. I jumped up to see Terry walking through the door. His face was filled with anger, and his nostrils were flared. He was pissed.

I sat back down. The worst thing to do was bother Terry when he was this angry. He rushed through the house and stormed to the bedroom. He didn't even acknowledge my presence or notice me sitting there. As much as I wanted to console him, I knew better. If I bothered him right now, he would retreat and leave. That was the worst possible outcome for me.

I went into the kitchen to at least try to find something to cook. I searched the fridge and found thawed steaks. I placed them on the counter beside the stove along with a bell pepper and onion. I searched the cabinets for an appropriate side and settled for boxed mac-and-cheese. I wanted to cook something soon, so we would have a reason to sit and talk.

*1 hour later

The food was done, but Terry was nowhere to be found. I sulked towards the bedroom. I knew this was going to go one of two ways. Either Terry was calmed down, or he was still a raging bull. I stood at the bedroom door. I reluctantly opened it and peered inside. “Terry,” I called out from the doorway. My voice was barely more than a whisper. “Terry,” I said a little louder. “What?!” he barked from the closet.

I jumped at the sound of his voice. He was still pissed. I lightly closed the door trying my hardest not to aggravate him any further. “Food’s ready. I made steak and—,” I said before he rushed out from the closet. “I'm not eating. I got shit to do, Bell!” he yelled walking towards his side of the bed. He leaned over and picked up his backpack and duffel bag from the floor. Panic took over my face.

“Terry, are you leaving to go somewhere?” I asked moving closer to him. “The hell does it look like? I'm leaving tonight,” he said placing clothes into the duffel. “Wait! I need to talk to you,” I said reaching for his arm. “Not now. I got to be there by Thursday afternoon to get Mike,” he said snatching his arm away from me. “Can you leave tomorrow afternoon? Anytime aft—,” I whimpered. Terry's eyes shot upward at me. “Don't fucking start. I already told you Mike was in some shit!” he snapped coming towards me. “But you never said—,” I said backing away.

This wasn't Terry. This wasn't my Terry. This wasn't the Terry who had never yelled at me, who never cursed at me, who even in my fits of anger calmed me down. Who was this?

“I get that you're upset, but I got a call from the doctor's office today. Remember, the tests they ran?” I asked trying my hardest not to cry. Tears were forming, but I refused to let them fall. I needed to stay strong. “Just stop for a second,” I said walking up to Terry and placing my hand on his chest. “What now, huh? What is it that can't possibly wait?” he asked. His face had turned into a scowl and his eyes had narrowed in annoyance. If I didn't think this man still loved me, I would label this a look of pure disgust and hate.

I was trying my hardest to just say it, but I knew it was too delicate of a matter. Terry was too far gone. This wasn't something you blurt out in a fit of rage or frustration. A panicked and rushed speech wouldn't suffice here. This was something so delicate that even the smallest detail needed to be discussed carefully. So, I decided to hold my tongue.

“Nevermind. I'm sorry. I'll talk to you la—” I said removing my hand from his chest. I could feel his heart racing. Maybe, at this moment, he needed me more than I needed him. “So, what's your plan? Are you just going to bail him out and bring him back with you?” I asked earnestly trying to find some sense of familiarity in his eyes, but I couldn't. With that, I buried every emotion I was carrying so that I could give Terry my full attention. “No, I plan on staying for a while. I got other shit to sort out besides just the shit with Mike,” he said turning away from me. “Wait, what? When will you be back?” I asked. “I don't fucking know!” he snapped again. “Terry, I'm only asking,” I said lowering my head. This conversation was quickly going downhill. “How am I supposed to tell you what I don't know, Bell? It may be a few weeks. Hell, it may be a month,” he said continuing to pack his duffel.

“Terry, I need you before then. I need you here tomorrow. The doctor's going to be calling me back. And I—,” I said twiddling my fingers. I hadn't even noticed that I was pacing on my side of the room. I stopped to look at Terry and tried to just say it. “There's something wrong, and he wants me back by—,” I said sniffling. Terry ceased his movements and looked up at me. The look on his face shook me to my core. Hate was inscribed as the only visible emotion. His eyes had darkened, his nostrils were flared, and his jaw was clenched tight enough to accentuate the veins from his temples.

“There's always something wrong with you. All the fuckin' time! It's always about you!” he yelled. His voice thundered through the room. Every word pierced my heart like a bullet. I stood frozen in shock. The man who promised to never hold my health against me had done exactly that.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through my body. There was now a sour taste in my mouth as my saliva grew thick. My hands were now shaking, and my legs felt like they would give out at any moment. I rushed to the bathroom and slammed the door behind me. I instantly felt the vomit rising from my belly. I hovered over the toilet. I spewed up nothing but bile due to having an empty stomach. The acid scorched my throat and flooded out of my nostrils. Every breath I took burned my nose and throat. This felt minuscule compared to the words Terry just said to me.

I dropped to my knees and kneeled before the toilet. The vomit wouldn't stop coming. I held myself up by placing my hands on the edge of the toilet. I was bawling silently. My chest was heaving up and down rapidly. The tears began to pour freely and landed on the toilet seat. I snatched a wad of tissue paper from the roll and wiped my face.

I tossed the tissue into the toilet and closed the lid. I flushed it and slumped back onto the side of the tub. The cold porcelain was hard and uncomfortable against my bare skin. My adrenaline was all over the place, so I pulled my knees up to my chest and dropped my head. Hanging low and uneasy, my head felt heavy against my legs.

Calm down, Bella. Calm down.

I was lost. I was hurt. I was angry. I was overwhelmed. I was exhausted. Worst of all, I felt alone. He was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Now, I felt like my life was ending here. He had crushed me without even knowing it. His face and actions showed no sliver of empathy or remorse. How would we ever come back from this? Better yet, could we?

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @slutsareteacherstoo @pocketsizedpanther @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blowmymbackout @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @insidefeelingofanadult @revealingco @keyaho @jimmybutlrr @gg-trini @nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh

A/N²: You will learn what the illness is in part 2. Stay tuned!

[faeryarchives]

✧˚ · . happy birthday (malleus draconia x reader)

summary: from what malleus understood, birthdays are supposed to be celebrated merrily with family and friends. that is why the fae was so happy to receive your invitation for your special day, but why did he find you alone and crying under the night sky?

warnings: mild angst + slight ooc (its been a loooong time since i wrote for twst 😭)

note: i hope u guys will enjoy and if you ever experienced something like this i am so sorry 🫂 + i am late for malleus birthday so i wrote for twst en 2nd anniv instead hihi

recent fics: in sickness and in health & so what are we? & when your hopeless streamer gets a girlfriend (ace x reader)

for faes, time is a fleeting moment. having to watch others age and wither away, it was no surprise that malleus finds them so fragile and consistently succumb to age. and yet, malleus still discovers them to be fascinating - especially after he met you.

"are you a visitor? that's surprising. i am (name), the housewarden of the ramshackle dorm. sorry if you want to visit. our place is a little rundown right now, but how can i help you?" 

the peculiar house warden of the ramshackle dorm who never seems to be afraid while being in his presence and even asks him to be his friend. having someone other than his found family in diasomnia, he never thought he would get to learn new things after living for so long.

"oh yeah, i remember now. mal, can you come the day after tomorrow?"

"hmm? i can come here every day if you want, treasure. but why the specific date?" he watched as you became silent momentarily as if hesitating to say something before giving him your usual smile, sending butterflies raging again in his stomach. 

"nothing, i just want to celebrate my birthday with you."

imagine how he was on cloud nine after you invited him on your special day! from what malleus understood, birthdays are supposed to be celebrated merrily with family and friends. and he is very determined to make his gift the best you can get. and a determined malleus draconia won't stop finding a way to make you the happiest one on that day.

"do you think they would like this?" 

"having to receive a gift from you, my liege, is already a blessing!" sebek sobbed with tears comically running down his face, mumbling how he envied you for having the chance to receive a gift from the malleus draconia.

"oh malleus, i am sure little bat would love it." lilia chuckled, seeing the fae panicking over his present, even after spending two whole days and nights to find the perfect one to give you. 

silver, who was watching it all unfold, had a somber expression before sighing deeply. "father is right. i noticed how (name) looked like they were in low spirits earlier, i'm sure it will cheer them up." that seemed to stop malleus in his tracks; you were sad on your special day?

"silver, can you explain more about that?"

"it seems like they were having a bad day; when i greeted them a happy birthday, they looked happy for a moment before walking away looking glum."

that seemed to dampen the mood in the room, not knowing what to say. one look at his watch, lilia couldn't help but gasp in horror. 

"if you spend more time here, you will miss the opportunity to make little bat happy on their special day."

"that would be horrible. i must leave immediately!" in an instant, the dragon fae disappeared, leaving traces of green fireflies in his wake. seeing how rushed he went out, lilia couldn't help but let out a loving sigh.

"ah, young love!"

the fae appeared in his usual spot at the massive tree by your dorm, expecting to hear cheers and singing of happy birthday for you because, according to lilia, birthday celebrations are usually loud. but to his surprise, he was met with silence and a seemingly empty building.

"...oh? has the party not started yet? or is it finished?" 

malleus looks around to find any signs of you or your friends - a pout forming on his lips, feeling sad that he might have missed your birthday celebration. that is, until he passed by the field you two always walked by during your night trips. that is when he finally found you, facing the flower field while curling yourself into a ball. from where he was standing, he could see your figure shake, followed by the sound of your voice

'(name)...?'

"i just want to feel special just one time..." he watches as you try wiping the tears rolling continuously down your face but to no avail, echoes of your cries being carried away by the wind. malleus knew he should do something but couldn't bring himself to move from his spot.

because it is the first time he has ever seen you cry. 

"... i already knew i wasn't worth anyone's time," you mumbled and sighed deeply. "i am an adult now. i shouldn't feel this way. but why..." you didn't even get the chance to finish as your voice cracked at the end, lips trembling in an attempt to stop the sobs from coming out, but it was as if your body had another plan and let it all out. 

"why am i so easy to forget? haven't i done enough to be loved?" looking at the flower field ahead of you, despite the tears blurring your vision, you couldn't help but laugh. "am i that so isolated that i am talking to flowers now?"

the wind picked up for a moment before someone put their blazer around you, followed by a voice you knew all too well. "they are a wonderful companion too."

"m-mal! how long have you been standing there?" in a panic, you start to wipe your face with your sleeve and avoid eye contact with the fae, covering your face with your hands as you nervously laugh. before you could speak, cold yet gentle hands found their way to your hands. this caused you to turn your head to look straight at malleus, who was looking at you with his face filled with worry, his eyes reflecting the turmoil of his thoughts.

"give me names." you blink at the sudden statement, confused.

"what?"

"give me the names of those who made you sad today. how dare they make you cry?!" the harsh wind stirred up the fallen leaves, clouds covering the starry night as malleus frowned, his hands getting tighter and tighter as the moments passed by. one closer look at your features and he could tell you've been crying for a while now, making him angrier. 

you were silent for a moment, shadows covering your eyes after, before wrapping your arms around him, burying your head into his chest. malleus was confused. the world stopped moving around him - his heightened hearing focused on your breathing and the sound of... laughter?

"... (name)?" hesitantly, he raised his arms before slowly wrapping them around you, hearing a hum of approval. the two of you stayed in each other's arms for a minute before you broke the hug and malleus could see you looking at him.

"thank you for coming. sorry if you had to see me that way." you turn to look over your dorm and shake your head disappointedly. "i thought you would also forget my birthday. i didn't expect you to come." playing with your hands nervously and taking a deep breath, you glanced him in the eye and gave him a strained smile.

"no one remembered my birthday until sebek and silver greeted me. i thought grim, and the others were acting like they didn't know; maybe they were going to surprise me, that's all!" malleus stayed silent, watching as you tried holding back your tears while telling your story. 

"i would never expect their genuine shock after hearing it." remembering the look on your friends' faces was enough for you to feel the raw emotions over again. "it might sound petty, but i just expected better, you know?" you sniffled. 

"whenever someone in the group celebrates their birthday, they remember every detail and all; the effort is there and everything. but when it comes to me, all effort disappears." you turn to malleus, and everything breaks down.

"all i ask is to feel special just this once. for people to see me as me - not the magicless human or the one who came from another world. is it hard for anyone to see me as their friend?" feeling the strength in your legs disappearing, you would almost fall to the ground if not for malleus catching you at the last minute.

the dragon fae held your hand in his, grasping it as your hand was made of glass. "didn't you invite them like you've done with me?" even though he was angry at your friends, malleus held back the voices in his head as he remembered about you talking about them so proudly.

"i did. but there were so many activities and exams for us first years this week."

"but being busy shouldn't be an excuse." he stopped before going on after finding you listening to him. "human friendship still confuses me, but the fact that they are not exerting the same effort they have to others - aren't you being... what do they call? taken for granted?" judging from the look on your face, he knew he had hit a sore spot.

"..."

"but that doesn't mean you should see yourself as someone lacking. you are worth so much love, my treasure." he runs his hand over your cheek before grabbing his gift and handing it to you. "i know how you treasure them, and how much they adore you too. maybe they are not still used to it but never think of yourself as the problem." you opened the box and stood unblinking, trying to process what you just received before staring back at malleus, demanding an explanation.

"i don't think i deserve this." inside the box was a beautiful emerald necklace. the enchanting green emerald reminds you the same way you would get lost in Malleus' eyes.

"nonsense. this is my gift to you, something that holds my magic to protect you whenever i am not around. without you, i don't think i would ever learn the joys of being friends with you as well as falling in love." he then wrapped the necklace around your neck, feeling satisfied with how it looked on you. he knelt down and took your hand in his, giving a kiss on the back of yours before staring back at you.

"happy birthday, my treasure. sorry i am late with my greetings. i was looking for the perfect gift-" without wasting another moment, you crouched down. you shared another hug with the fae, burying your head into his shoulder. he could still feel your body shaking not from sadness but joy. his hands wrapped around your back and gave you small rubs, attempting to soothe you.

"you silly dragon, just your presence is enough for me."

"is that so?" he hummed, letting your body relax into his.

"...thank you mal."

"anything for you, dear."

bonus!

heartslabyul, savannaclaw, octavinelle, scarabia, pomefior and ignihyde gang hiding in the bush to surprise you but ended up hearing everything you just said:...

silver looking at the big group, sighing: you guys messed up big time

lilia: hush they are about to kis-

sebek: WAKA - SAMAAAAAAAA

grim: NOOOOO MY HENCHHUMAN I AM SO SORRYYYYYY IT WAS ACE AND DEUCE'S IDEA!

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Babygirl

PAIRING | Chris Evans x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.8K

SUMMARY | Chris threw a party, but you do not remember anything when you woke up the following day. Not only are you not in the guest bed you were supposed to occupy, but you wake up in Chris' arms after a steamy night. He helps you piece everything together, and your dynamic shifts in a way you're delighted with.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. RPF, friends to FWB, use of pet name (Babygirl), swearing, brief mentions of vomit, slight dub-con/non-con if you squint, smut (handjob, fingering, unprotected sex - wrap it before you tap it!).

A/N | This is requested by the amazing @cevansbaby-dove, for which I can not thank you enough! This man is absolutely amazing, and I can never get enough of your sweet requests for him 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist

You wake up in an unfamiliar bed, wrapped in a pair of strong arms, your head lying on a warm, firm chest with a smell that is very familiar to you. When you slowly open your eyes and lift your head, you look at Chris' face.

''How the fuck did I end up here?!'' you whisper to yourself as you try and scramble out of his grip, but he only seems to hold on tighter as he sighs softly.

You close your eyes again as you try to piece together what happened last night, but somewhere after your 5th or 6th drink, you're not sure, and your memory is very fragmented.

All you know is that you got way too drunk and somehow ended up in bed with him, and you secretly hoped nothing had gone down between the two of you, but one lift of the comforter showed you all you needed to know.

You're both very naked; he is also very hard right now.

''Hmm, you like what you see, Babygirl?'' Chris says with a deep voice, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as you look up at him with a worried look.

''Did I-, I mean we- us- Did we...?'' you stumble as you sit upright, clinging to the comforter to your chest as you try to piece everything together, which isn't easy with the raging hangover you're currently faced with.

Your head feels like it's throbbing uncontrollably, and you squeeze your eyes shut as a wave of nausea washes over you, trying your hardest not to throw up all over his bed.

''Oookay, Babygirl, let's get you into the shower and some aspirin in you,'' Chris says as the wave of nausea dies down, and when you open your eyes, the world is spinning, and your head throbbing worsens.

In a reflex, he grabs a trash can on the side of his bed, and you clutch it tightly as it feels like your inside is coming out through your mouth, vomiting out what seems like an endless stream of everything you had to eat and drink last night.

Chris rubs his hand softly up and down your back, soothing you through your emotions, and the tears fall down your cheeks as you let out an undeniable sob as a sharp pain shoots through your head.

''C'mere,'' he says as he slowly pulls you into his arms, not to disturb you any further now that you feel like this.

You keep sobbing, and it worsens the pain, which only pushes you to keep crying more, and you end up in a vicious cycle of pain and tears.

''Shh, calm down, Babygirl, you're okay. You're doing well for me,'' he whispers into your hair between soft kisses, and eventually, your sobs die down to quiet sniffles, all while Chris still holds you close.

''Shall we take a shower?'' he asks, and you look at him with wide eyes, unsure if you should do it. It's not that you don't want to do it, but wouldn't it change everything between you two? But then again, last night already changed everything in your dynamic.

''A-are you sure...? I mean-''

''I'm sure, Babygirl. But only if you want it, too. I can't get enough of you now that I've had a taste,'' he purrs into your ear, and your stomach feels leaping.

He slowly lays you down to prepare the shower and returns with some aspirin and a water bottle, urging you to drink something to get you hydrated.

After the medicine has settled in for a bit, you're slowly getting up with Chris' help, and he guides you to the bathroom and into the warm stream of the shower.

You groan as the warm water envelops your body, making Chris' dick twitch at the sound. After last night, he can't get enough of hearing your sweet sounds, and he plans on pulling so many more from you.

He steps in behind you as he closes the curtain of his shower, and you can feel him crowding your space right until you can feel his hands roaming over your arms and sides.

''Chris, what are you doing?'' you ask, a little unsure, though you would lie to yourself if you didn't enjoy him touching you.

''Shh, just let it happen Babygirl. I'm not going to hurt you, and if you feel uncomfortable, you can always use your safeword,'' he whispers, and you nod before giving yourself over to Chris and his touches.

''B-But we should talk afterward,'' you say as you turn around and look up at him.

''We will, but first, I will make you feel better, Babygirl. Orgasms are supposed to help with headaches, after all,'' he says as he nuzzles into your neck, and you lull your head to the side to give him the access he's looking for.

''Please, kiss me,'' you whine a little, and Chris is more than happy to oblige as he steps closer to your body, his now fully hard member poking against your abdomen.

His lips find yours in a sweet kiss that takes your breath away, but your hand slides between your bodies and wraps around him, making him grunt before you slowly move your hand up and down.

''Fuck, Babygirl,'' he groans against your lips, and you can't help but let your mouth curl into a smile as you hear how good he feels.

You envelop his mouth with yours while you keep rubbing up and down with your hand, teasing his tip, swallowing his sounds as your tongues dance together.

Before Chris can even tell you it's happening, you feel his dick twitch in your hand, and without warning, he cums over your hand and both your stomachs with a loud moan.

''Fucking hell, that felt so good, Babygirl, but now it's my turn to make you feel good,'' he says, and you let go of his dick, his hand inching to your dripping pussy.

You gasp as he plunges two fingers into your entrance without warning after feeling how wet you are because of him, and a high whine follows quickly after as it takes you over completely.

He keeps going in a steady motion with his fingers while his thumb plays with your clit until he suddenly stops before your orgasm.

''Trust me, Babygirl, it'll be worth it,'' he says as he picks you up and pushes you against the wall, letting you glide down slightly until your entrance catches onto his tip, and he slides in with a smooth thrust.

The water from the shower washes over you both as he slowly thrusts up into you, taking his sweet time and building you right back up to your orgasm. You trust him with your life, so this won't be any different.

He keeps whispering sweet nothings against you while thrusting, which makes the butterflies in your stomach constantly go wild with every word.

''I-I lo-o-o-ve y-you,'' you say as he picks up the pace, and with that, you shatter around him, your orgasm being mindbending as it makes you cross-eyed for a good minute.

When you're finally coming down, you slump your head forward, and with a dopey grin, you pant against his chest when you realize he came inside you, too, but you didn't even notice.

''I love you too, Babygirl, and there aren't enough words to tell you just how much,'' he says with a kiss against your temple. You two finish your shower, letting Chris wash your hair and your body before enabling you to do the same with him, making you giggle uncontrollably as he gets shampoo on his eye. He curses in a thick Boston accent at the invasion.

''When you're done, he grabs towels for both of you and dries you off, leaving kisses over every inch of skin he can reach, and it feels like second nature to both of you.

''Let's get you into some clothes; we wouldn't want you walking around the house naked when we still have guests, huh?'' he says, and your eyes grow wide as saucers as you look at him, and the realization sinks in.

They heard you fall apart on Chris' cock in the shower and probably during the night, though you don't remember anything about that.

''Chris, we still need to talk about what happened because as much as I love you, I'm not ready for a relationship now,'' you confess, and he nods.

''We can just keep on sleeping together and have a friends-with-benefits relationship,'' he offers as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

''But... what if one of us would get into a relationship with someone else?'' you ask, the thought making your throat close a little, a lump forming.

''I don't want anyone else than you, Babygirl. I want you in whichever way you'll have me, and I'll wait for you as long as I have to,'' he says before capturing your lips in one more kiss that sends you soaring.

''Okay,'' you breathe out when he pulls away, and with a big smile, you get dressed in a pair of boxer briefs. Chris hands you together with one of his shirts, which is way too big and perfect for you.

''C'mon, let's make some breakfast. You deserve it, and we need to get something in your stomach so you won't vomit like that again,'' Chris jokes, and you slap him against his chest.

''Not funny!'' you say, but you laugh anyway, and when you go down the stairs, you're greeted by some of the guests who slept over after the party, including his brother, Scott.

''Well, there we have the two lovebirds,'' he jokes, but Chris shoots him a glare with a slight shake of his head and immediately shuts his mouth.

''Just get seated, Babygirl, and I'll whip you up some breakfast, okay?'' he asks, and you happily do while scrolling through your social media, not paying attention to Chris and Scott's conversation.

''She's not ready for a relationship, but she agreed to be friends with benefits, so I'm happy with it,'' Chris says with a big smile, and Scott claps him on his shoulder approvingly, making you look at the two of them.

''I'll leave you two to your breakfast,'' he says before gracefully sliding out of the kitchen, and not long after, Chris puts a plate down in front of you with pancakes and some fruit, together with a small kiss on the crown of your head.

''I love you, Babygirl,'' he says as he gets seated, and you happily dig into your pancakes while you tell him about some things you saw on social media, but mostly dog videos, since that's precisely what the two of you bonded over, to begin with.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 17

Revelations In Tønsberg | Loki x Reader

Thor accompanies you and Loki back to Tønsberg and a warm welcome from the Asgardian court. A far cry from the golden luxury of the The Golden Palace of the gods, but certainly more homey. The villagers get to know you better and secrets are revealed.

Warnings: 18+ for language & sexual content. Dirty talk, prince/princess kink? (is that a thing?), p in v to make up for the parental issues I'm exorcising in this fic. Rated D for Daddy issues and C for cosy.

A/N: what do you mean it's summer? No I obviously didn't slip on my timeline for posting by like 6 months I don't know what you're talking about.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics , @reveriesources and me.

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

Your second journey by Bifrost was no more bearable than the first, leaving your head swimming and your stomach roiling as you came to a stop. 

Thor laughed heartily and slapped Loki on the back, exchanging jovial words about your trist at the Golden Palace, no doubt. The god seemed to have no filter and no qualms about discussing your private life, even in the open square of Tønsberg. 

With a gentle hand on your back, Loki led you forwards, your eyes still on the cobblestones while you attempted to get your bearings without being sick. 

“Welcome back!” Brunnhilde’s voice carried across the harbour and you finally took the opportunity to take in your surroundings. In your haste to get away from the Avengers you had forgotten what had happened the last time you walked along the sea front of Tønsberg and suddenly it all came swimming back. The queasy feeling in your stomach intensified. “I worried we’d never see you hear again,” she strode across the sea soaked front, her arms wide and welcoming, “but we are happy to welcome you back.” 

Thor opened his arms in return, beaming and ready to embrace the King of Asgard, but she bypassed him entirely and wrapped her arms around your middle, pulling you away from Loki and lifting your toes off the ground with the ferocity of her embrace. 

“It’s good to see you as well, Brunnhilde.” The panic that had begun to rise ebbed away, and then there was another pressure at your back and Thor enveloped you in a bear hug, squeezing you into Brunnhilde. 

“Loki’s little trouble maker, back in Tønsberg, I am so happy.” He thrilled, resting his cheek on top of your head and rubbing your arms. “I always wanted a sister-” he paused, “well, a sister that didn’t want to destroy everything -” You both went still as you remembered the prophecy left by Frigga. Thor floundered for words. “Anyway, we shall feast and drink and celebrate your return, I am sure. You are most welcome.”

“That’s quite enough,” Loki coughed, finding your hand again and guiding you, now slightly ruffled, back to his side. You stood on your tip toes and placed a wet kiss on his cheek, nuzzling him with your nose. 

“Don’t be jealous,” you teased, and his arm around you tightened. 

“Jealous? I am not jealous, I am concerned. I left you here once and -” 

 Jealous 

You allowed the thought to float to him and watched as his eyes darkened. 

I am not jealous of that oaf, merely protective. Surely that is allowed after two kidnapping attempts. 

Brunnhilde’s eyes drifted from Loki to your face, watching as it dropped and your shoulders tensed, “-let’s not concern ourselves with the past. Let’s look to the future, come inside we just finished a council meeting so the hall is empty.” She turned and led the way towards the long hall, pulling her suit jacket tight around her middle against the biting wind whipping from the sea. While it’d been cold in America, here it was icy, but before you could shiver you felt the ring of Loki’s magic and a navy blue peacoat engulfed you, the inside already warm. You looked over at Loki, surprised that he wouldn’t put you in his own colours, and he merely smiled, looking out on the sea and pretending he hadn’t noticed your new attire, but you couldn’t help but notice the twinkle of emerald green in each shining button. 

You looked out too, seeing the waves on the horizon cresting and falling, the gulls circling the frothing water and steadied yourself to take in Tønsberg with fresh eyes. 

At your first visit, you’d visited Brunnhilde’s cottage, tucked away two streets back from the harbour, inconspicuous and modest. Now she was leading you towards the long, low building that stood in the centre of the main thoroughfare opposite the harbour. Above the door there was a symbol, tall lines forming a pyramid in a strangely familiar way. 

Asgard’s Palace 

Loki looked up too, taking your hand, this is the new symbol of Asgard and our rebuilt court. Welcome, Princess. 

Princess. You hadn’t considered your role here either, that you weren’t just a visitor, but a royal visitor, at the pleasure of the Royal court, small as it was, modest as the Long Hall appeared. And your heart swelled with pride and belonging. Loki squeezed your hand again, the same pride reflected in his eyes. 

You looked around again, viewing the village with fresh eyes. 

Behind the village itself, building work had started on further homes and the dock, which on your previous visit only held a few fishing boats, was full of tourist vessels bobbing next to wooden row boats. 

Thor opened the door of the long building, waving his arm for you to enter.

“Welcome to the Asgardian Court, Princess Estrid.” Thor bowed as you passed and you heard the unmistakable sound of Loki smacking him playfully on the back of the head as he followed. 

Inside the hall was reassuringly simple and looked very much like the village halls you had seen once or twice during your time in London. The noticeboard was full of flyers for music lessons, hobby groups and items for sale, a few images of a village fete and a sign up list for organising events had a few scrawled names, but no contact details. You sighed in relief, half expecting to be thrown back into the excess of the Golden Palace alongside its rules and regulations. But life in the Long Hall seemed much more relaxed and familiar.  

A few people were moving chairs around, stacking them at the edges of the room, calling to each other as they worked. The smell of brewing tea and freshly baked biscuits wafted from the open hatch to the kitchen where a group of older Asgardians carefully placed doilies on trays and arranged mugs. 

The only out of place item was a blue and gold velvet curtain that decorated a dais at one end of the room. Even in the winter light the floor to ceiling windows let in enough light to make the gold brocade shine. 

“Sorry, it’s - King stuff, you know?” Brunnhilde shrugged, almost embarrassed by the pdecadence of the set u[, and waved to another Asgardian in the kitchen, holding her hand up and mouthing drinking, a chorus of ‘just a minute’ responded and before you knew it there was a table set in the middle of the hall, drinks and food covering the surface. 

“By Loki’s face I’m assuming this is more than a social call,” Brunnhilde asked, pouring a large cup of tea into a pint sized mug with Authentic Asgardian Mead printed on the side. 

“Wise as ever,” Loki smiled, “we have come to ask you more questions about Estrid.” Under the table he took your hand, twining your fingers together. “We met another god, claiming to know her, he attempted to kidnap her and - we heard a prophecy.” 

Brunnhilde lent into her chair, rocking it on its legs while Loki described your encounter during the Avenger’s mission and raising an eyebrow at his admission that a prophecy was involved. 

“Well, you’ve certainly been busy, I thought she’d keep you out of trouble, not get you into more of it.” She grinned and Thor laughed, shaking his brother’s shoulder. 

“She surely is Trouble,” Thor smiled indulgently, ruffling the top of your head. 

“But Loki says he couldn’t see him, he was tall, he had this spear -” suddenly it all bubbled to the surface and you had to get it out, everything you’d seen, what had happened. Between sips of the tea that appeared in front of you, you told Brunnhilde everything. 

“Lugh,” Brunnhilde said, thoughtfully, “it was a five pointed spear, correct?” 

You both nodded and Brunnhilde rocked her chair again, “definitely Lugh, and he knew your mother? And that you should go with him?” She raised an eyebrow again before looking away thoughtfully. 

“He said it over and over, he wanted me to go with him, and said it wasn’t safe for me.” The legs of her chair hit the floor with a thump. 

“And now tell me about the prophecy.” 

Loki took the marble from his pocket and placed the halves together again, releasing the voice of his mother into the room. The Asgardians fell silent, those still tidying from the council meeting stopped and bowed their heads at the memory of their fallen Queen. 

“I saw a vision of a flock in chaos, a singular lamb frolicked in its midst, a lamb with a fiery fleece. It has burnt the farm. But from the ashes rises lush land, strong crops and healthy babes. I have told this vision to my husband, and Lugh, he does not believe me when I say she is no threat, he believes this to be a prophecy of Ragnarok, he cannot see the verdant land beyond the fire. You must hide the girl, my friend, I can protect her no longer.” 

“Frigga,” Brunnhilde whispered, “she had many visions but, I can’t understand why you think this pertains to you?” She turned to you, studying your face. “We have no idea why Frigga sent this to Lugh, if you are the lamb mentioned or the girl. I do not see why he should be involved or concerned with you at all.”

“They were friends, were they not?” One of the villagers said from the kitchen, leaning through the hatch, “Lugh and Brigid, they were firm friends, often talking at the events. Frigga knew Lugh by associate as well. Perhaps that’s why?” 

“Yes, yes,” another agreed. “He was always chatting to the women folk, a kind, gentle man, never married himself mind.” Another dropped off a plate of kanelbulle, the deep scent of cinnamon wafting down the table. 

“Perhaps it’s time the girl heard all,” the time roughened voice came from behind you this time but there were many nods and noises of agreement throughout the room. 

Brunnhilde looked uncomfortable, but settled in her chair nonetheless. “Your mother was married to a man called Bres, a god of sorts who joined with your mother’s pantheon, he even became King, for a time. He was a Midgardian god as Odin was, residing in a place called the Otherworld. He was deeply unpopular, I didn’t want to upset you, when you visited before, you and Loki looked so happy I - I’m sorry. I should have told you, he was not a well liked God, but I wanted to spare you. Your mother though,” a ripple of happy sighs and murmers fluttered around the room and you were instantly self conscious. “She was very well liked, she visited Asgard many times.” 

“So… why did she marry this Bres? Is he my father?”  

“They didn’t love each other did they?” Tears welled in your eyes, for all your fears that you’d be sold into a loveless, political marriage, it had never occured to you that this fate had already befallen your mother. 

“No, I’m sorry, I believe that your mother, Brigid, loved another. Though I’m not sure who. But Bres is not your father, your mother was already pregnant, you see, when the marriage was arranged and you were born just before the ceremony. Your mother was a free spirit, she liked to travel and make friends, she brought back floral and fauna, stories and trinkets, art, crafts and, after a longer journey. You.” 

The four of you sat in silence for a few moments, contemplating what Brunnhilde had said. Bres really should have been your father and, officially, he was. But your mother didn’t love him and they weren’t married when you were born - your head swam with new information. 

“I remember.” A voice coughed behind you, stuttering through the passages of time, the stooped Asgardian shuffled around the table. Thor stood and offered her his seat, sliding the chair back into place and standing regally behind it. 

“Please,” you reached your free hand across the table towards the woman, considering Loki was easily two thousand years old, the woman must have been ancient, her face creased with memories, her skin paper thin. “I remember you,” and the memory lit up her eyes, “Estrid, Brigidsdotter, you brought so much joy to the palace, small one. And your mother loved you very much, so much that she brought you many times to spare you from Bres.” At his name the woman looked angry, her lips pursing. 

“She did?” Your eyes welled with tears, you had wondered why you were left on Asgard so much, how you’d come to know the Princes so well if your mother had loved you. 

“My dear small one, you are young, you will learn, sometimes loss is its own kind of affection, she took that burden for you, to protect you.” She paused to cough and you offered her a cup of tea from the pot. “Thank you, always so kind - He was not kind though, he came to you once and there was such shouting as you have never heard, the palace rocked with the sound of it - and in the morning,” she coughed again, “you were gone, small one, the boys, they had forgotten it all.” She reached a hand up and Thor took it between his palms as gently as if he held a small bird. 

“We forgot?” He asked.

“You all forgot, she made you, the Queen, it was for the best for you to forget, so that it would not hurt you to be separated. Especially you, Prince of Mischief.” He eyes twinkled as she smiled at Loki. “I assumed it was to hide you from Bres again, but then Odin sent out a party to search for you.” She hummed, eyes closing a second longer than necessary when she blinked.

“He wanted her back? Safe?” Loki asked.

“He wanted to imprison you I suppose.” She coughed and brought a handkerchief from the sleeve of her cardigan. “You,who had brought so much joy and so much trouble to his doorstep, he was afraid of you.” She laughed but it turned into another wet, painful, cough.

Loki shook his head, “how can that be, the Allfather, afraid of a girl -” he turned to you quickly, “no offence meant, my Darling,” he brought your hand to his lips and kissed your fingers. 

“No, of course, he is, was, the Allfather, how could he have feared me.” Confusion crossed your face and the old lady patted your hand. 

“Small one, full of power, so much power you could not comprehend. The prophecy, it was about you and he feared you would bring Ragnarok if you stayed, you would burn the city with your magic and dance in the flames.” She shrugged, her cardigan sliding on her thin shoulders, and then took a draught of her tea, smacking her lips and reaching for a biscuit when she was done. 

“But Ragnarok happened already, that’s why we’re here,” Loki scrunched his brow, “and it was Hela, it was nothing to do with Estrid.” 

“Well maybe it was wrong, what do I know.” She patted Thor’s hand. “But I do know,” her eyes twinkled and if you didn’t know better, you’d say it was the same spark of mischief that Loki possessed, “I do know that Lugh,” she said his name like a sigh, one hand over her heart, “he was a kind man to all, and he loved your mother, so very much, that he would protect you, even now. He didn’t know how, of course, but he visited you once and Bres - well - as I say, it shook the palace.” 

Tears were threatening again, you couldn’t help it, it was all too much, should you have gone with him? Trusted him? Had he kidnapped you or was it another? Your mind raced.  

“I’m sorry, small one, I grow very weary, I am not as spritely as I once was.” 

“Thank you, thank you so much.” You reached across the table to hug her, your senses filling with an instant calm, a forgotten memory of the Asgardian nursery, the school rooms billowing with chalk dust and the grey teacher who watched over your work. “Thank you.” 

“Oh small one, it is my pleasure to see you so well again.” She smiled back, but tears didn’t come, instead her eyes looked milky and unfocussed, “I - Princess Estrid, what in the Nine Realms are you wearing - and Prince Loki, do unhand the young girl - I was - I was - look at the board -” she made a half turn, stumbling into Thor’s arms, “I must -” 

Thor tucked her tiny arm in his and kept her upright, “I shall escort her home, I know the way.” He nodded at you all, “I trust we shall discuss this later?” 

“Yes, of course brother, later.” Loki touched his elbow as he passed while you stared at the noticeboard again, silent tears spilling down your cheeks. 

When you’d helped to tidy away the table and the other Asgardian ladies had fussed over you awhile, Loki decided it was time to retire and discuss all that had been revealed to you. He had watched you working, leaning against Brunnhilde’s throne, while they spoke in hushed voices about the prophecy.

Outside of the tall windows the night had drawn in quickly, the sun already below the horizon despite the fact it was only mid-afternoon. In the lamplight you could see thick flakes of snow passing in and out of the light. 

“My darling,” Loki cooed, arms curling around your waist and his chin on your shoulder, “you work with my people is much appreciated, but I believe we should leave now, we have much to discuss.” 

You nodded in agreement and said goodbye to your new Asgardian friends. They were friendly, happy people, relaxing into their new life as much as they could with the weight of their loss still hanging heavy over them. You remembered snippets of life in Asgard, but the sheltered palace and walled grounds were a world away from the casual court of this new land, and you had to admit you enjoyed it.

At the door of the long hall Loki waved his hand, alongside your coat, a matching hat and gloves appeared. His own fell around his knees, accentuating the long lines of his body, and he lifted the collar against the chill breeze shifting the airy snow across the doorstep. 

Naturally, you fell into step next to each other, your arms linked and shoulders bumping together. You passed the turning for Brunnhilde’s road and suddenly your heart hammered, you had made it this far last time. You had walked from Brunnhilde’s home to the harbour’s edge, you’d watched the boats, far fewer boats then, bobbing in the waves, and now you were watching them creak against the crisp wind, snow icing their edges. 

“You have nothing to fear, Asynja,” Loki assured, putting his arm around your waist instead. You had to walk slower, but you did feel safer this close to his body. 

“I know -” you took a deep breath, watching it mist in the air as you exhaled, “I was alone before.” 

“Though I’m truly sorry, beyond any words, that I was not here to escort you before, that isn’t what I meant.” He stopped you then and your heart beat wildly. The cottages were lit up in the darkness and you longed to be safe inside. “You have nothing to fear, anything out here stalking you now -” you hitched a breath, “- not that there is,” he cupped your cheeks, tipping your chin up. “There is nothing out here that your power cannot match, nothing that you cannot beat, you have no reason to fear, they should be afraid of you.” His eyes were ablaze, firm and proud. 

“I don’t know about that, Loki, I-”

“Darling, you are Princess Estrid, daughter of Brigid, this is a magnificent lineage all of its own. I’ve seen what you can do, what your raw magic can create, you have nothing to fear.” 

“Okay,” you weren’t entirely convinced, but Loki’s surety made you feel as if you could take on the world anyway, just as long as he was by your side. 

“It seems I need to prove it to you further,” he stepped away from you, taking the coat he’d conjured with him and a chill ran up your spine, the flare of magic was as natural as the shiver itself, a heavy cloak and fur collar fell about you, fluffing up behind your neck to protect you from any further cold. 

Loki smiled, the predatory smile he employed when he had been proved right, “without thought, my darling, you look truly regal, as you deserve to be.” He approached you again, holding his hand out and, as it touched yours, he allowed himself to exchange his modern peacoat for a matching robe. 

“Do you believe me now, Princess?” He teased the question against your lips, pulling back when you leaned into him. 

“Yes, I believe you.” You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully. 

“Good,” Loki’s cold lips met yours, as all consuming as his belief in you, you tipped your head, deepening the kiss until your tongues slid together, noses brushing and the snow falling like glitter around you. 

You stumbled over the threshold of Loki’s Tønsberg home intending to take in the details of his cottage, to learn more about him, to talk over the new information revealed at the long hall. But his lips on your neck, pushing the heavy fabric to the floor where it billowed into glittering magic at your feet, the overwhelming scent of him as he slammed the door behind you both and pressed you into the wall. You were incapable of thinking of anything else, of this god before you, a Prince, and you felt every inch the Princess he believed you could be. That sensation alone filled you with a burning desire. 

“Loki,” you moaned and he groaned against your lips. 

“Say my name,” he growled, “say it again.”

“Only if -” you panted, pulling away to drag your sweater over your head, “only if you call me Princess again.” 

Loki’s eyes darkened, his smile feral as he loomed over you, one hand braced against the wall, his body hovering over yours, barely touching, the other traced your ear, down your cheek, to your lips. “You like when I call you Princess?” he purred, dragging your bottom lip with his thumb and you latched onto it, drawing the digit into your mouth and nodding. “Then who am I to deny you, Princess.”

“Ugh, Loki,” you sagged against the wall, reaching for his lapels and drawing him back into your kisses.

“That’s a good girl,” he swept you up in his kiss, lifting you into his arms and carrying you up the narrow stairs to his bedroom. Candles flickered as you passed, illuminating the room in a golden glow. 

Loki’s bed was huge, taking up a large portion of the room with its posts and swathes of emerald velvet. He’d placed you on an equally luxurious blanket, but you could feel the cold slick of silk behind you. 

He prowled towards you, crowding you backwards into the pillows and crushing your lips together again. Your hands sought the hard planes of his chest, ripping the buttons from his shirt and revealing the dips of his muscles to your hungry eyes. 

“I need you so badly, fuck -” you dug your hands into his hair, needing something, anything, to ground you. 

“Darling,” his chest rumbled with each breath, his kisses deep and languid. 

You weren’t sure whose magic removed the rest of your clothes, but you knew when you could feel the hard length of him against your thigh that this was exactly where you needed to be, where you had always belonged. You canted your hips against him, trying to gain any friction to quell the aching between your legs. 

“My Princess,” he looked down at you, his eyes full of emotion and lust, blurred together into an intoxicating cocktail, you shivered again, your own slick mixing with the precum leaking onto your leg. “Are you going to keep being a good girl for me?” He asked, nosing at the sensitive spot on your neck, licking over the pulse. 

“Do you want me to be good?” You teased back, wrapping your legs around his hips.

It took him a moment to answer while he took in your prone form, spread below him in the candlelight, sparking with magic, before he met your eyes again, notching the head of his cock at your entrance. 

“No, I don’t,” he grinned. “I want you to be bad, I want you to be naughty, my Goddess, my Asynja, I want you to be wicked and cruel and ruthless. I want you to take exactly what you want from me." 

You clawed at his back, leaving red tracks on his porcelain skin while he snarled with lust, sheathing himself inside of you. 

He was animalistic, growling as he set a punishing pace, his forehead pressed to yours. 

You gripped his hips, using them to pull yourself closer, rolling your body to meet his with every thrust. 

“Loki - ugh - My Prince!” You cried out, your stomach tightened, clenching around his hard length. 

That feral smile returned and he slowed his movements, rolling onto his back and dragging you with him until you were seated in his lap, his cock, so deep, you could swear you could see the outline of him. His hands found your waist again, urging you to begin moving. 

“My Prince,” you panted, squeezing your eyes closed at the sheer bliss of being so close to him, so connected you could feel his heartbeat inside of you. 

“My Princess,” Loki sat up to kiss you, his muscles flexing, sweat dipping into each rivulet, “I want you to take your pleasure, my darling, let me be your throne, tell your court your wicked desires.” 

With a moan you kissed the smile from his face, devouring him, his words like a match to tinder in your veins. And you moved. So slowly it was almost painful, teasing the length of him from your body, feeling the drag of each deliciously, thick inch against your fluttering walls, before lowering yourself again, hands on his chest, head tipped back in sheer ecstasy. 

“That’s it, use my body for your pleasure, sit upon your throne.” He cried as he came hard inside you to the feel of your pulsing walls and tightening fingers. 

As he rolled you over again you were sure you could get used to being a Princess. 

<<Chapter 16

Chapter 18 >>

[inbabylontheywept]

So. So. I have a horrific backlog in my inbox, and past attempts at answering it have generated more asks. Generally at a higher rate than I could answer the asks. Exceeding escape velocity. And I've been mulling over how to solve this, and my idea was to create a super-bus answer post. It'll be a little lengthy, so, you know. Click read more at your own risk. Roll them dice.

Well, you clicked it. God speed and god bless.

--- @meowserita says

I feel obligated to tell you i stayed up till four am reading a bunch of you stories, because they're incredible. Also feel like saying that the only other times ive stayed up this late in recent memory is when i was binge reading one piece so take that as you will. We'll see how much i regret this but odds are i wont like i didnt regret staying up reading one piece

Hahaha! Ha! Oof. I am extremely flattered and awed and impressed but also, my stories are going to be there tomorrow, and the next day, and maybe forever depending on how this whole "civilization" thing pans out. So. Sleep more. But also thank you for being a mega fan.

I had like, a week long binge of Naruto in middleschool that was awful. I didn't even like the show that much. People recommend anime to me now, and I feel like a former alcoholic turning down drinks at a party. No thank you, there's a 99% that will simply help be relax after work one day and a 1% chance that will ruin my life and I'll catch myself unironically saying "believe it!" years later, and I just can't take that chance. I have too many people depending on me.

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Anonymous says

i see you are also from Utah. do you have a favorite swig menu item

No. I've never actually been into a Swig. There were a few soda shops back in AZ, but I never really got them either - I'm still not sure how a gummy shark in a blue soda is supposed to make it taste better.

My poison is generally gas station stuff. Slurpees are amazing, and I also like their little pickled sausage snack things. Probably literal poison, but they call to me.

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Anonymous says

four more messages in my head. four more tests of sanity.

hm. troubling. hope you pass.

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Anonymous says

yooo “fireflies infinity mirror room” mention!!! i lived in Tempe for a few years…one time i was making my way down the escalator from the PHX skytrain and there was a group of like 20-30 Mormons (?) at the base of the escalator waiting there to welcome out-of-state Mormons to some sort of Mormon convention in…well, Mesa, presumably? google is now telling me it may have been for the Easter pageant.

That does sound likely. My grandpa was actually in charge of the easter pageant for a few years down there - I actually broke my arm on the little pony Mary rides to Bethlehem. I was trying to keep my little brother and sister on it by using my arms as a seatbelt, but when they fell off anyway, I just had to kids land on my arm from 6 foot drop and got blessed me with a third elbow. I had some crazy ideas on how to become a professional baseball player with it, but my dad insisted we go to the hospital to do drugs, and when I woke up they fixed the damn thing. Could've gone pro.

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@synapticwanderer says

hello! just wanted to say I'm a big fan, your stories make me laugh and sometimes cry and sometimes both, sometimes at once. when my partner asks me what I'm laughing so hard at I read them to them, and sometimes I just go read them to them anyway. thank you for sharing your delightful way with words with us, and I hope you don't mind that I've got notifications on for your posts (you and I think three other writers at the moment) anyway, have a great day!

I don't mind! I hope I haven't ruined that privilege, actually, I shitpost more than most people think. I like mixing happy and sad as well as silly and earnest. But. Yes. A lot of shitposts.

Anyway, thank you for the comment! Happy trails.

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@funnynamedottxt says

I kept hearing about your wrestling post, and then I saw the word “bisexual” when you were talking about it, so, needless to say, I sought it out immediately.

And, while this isn’t technically part of the actual post, in that reblog where you were talking to that one dude about sexism and societal issues and shit, you made some pussy joke about Lake Michigan and that may just be the best thing I’ve read all week.

Sorry about the run on sentence btw, I know it probably deeply hurts the writer in you, but I find it funny and am too lazy to self-censor sooooo

I'm glad you had a good time reading it. I don't know which gender I'd imagine the great lakes as to be honest. I just know that their thing with Michigan is beautiful and would be very distracting should I ever become an astronaut. I don't want to make fun of people for wanting a better world, and I would actually say I did a botch job on my response. Didn't realize it until several hundred people got mad at me. I know I write well, and the catch .22 of that is that people assume that my ability to read the room is probably higher than it is.

Anyway. I don't fault them for getting mad. Not my finest hour.

And I'm not a snob about run on sentences by the way. English teachers want to make rules about how you write and rules to follow, but that's because they need to grade by rubrics for it to be fair. It turns an art form into something mechanical though. Just make it natural and the rest comes after.

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@00x7 says

Hi. I hope you're doing well.

I had read your wrestling story. I had not laughed so hard in a great many years. I thank you for this, though I am also sympathetic to your misfortunes.

There was enough going on that I was naturally curious if you were or are Mormon, a curiosity born from being someone who grew up as such myself (something that being queer doesn't really bump up nicely against, though you hardly would need to hear such a thing from me), and which visiting your blog quickly answered for me.

Of course, scrolling down for two seconds immediately had me realize that you were also the kid with the grandpa and the worms. I had read the worm story before, but visiting somewhere and realizing it was you was a nearly transcendent experience. My third eye was rather forcibly opened. What a storied life you have had.

Anyway, as an amateur writer, I'm very happy to have found your blog. We don't know eachother, but your words resonate with me.

Whenever you read this, I hope you have a good one. Thank you.

Oh! That's my favorite thing - when people like two different stories with very different tones. It's kind of a would you love me if I wasn't beautiful sort of question - would you like my writing if it wasn't purely silly? And it makes me happy when the answer is yes.

I actually wandered through your blog to try and find your writing, but I didn't have much luck. I'd love to see some, if you're willing. Send me a link if you keep it on another platform. I couldn't do a critique if I wanted to - all my writing knowledge is just gut level stuff that I don't know how to share - but it's just a fun way to know people. And sometimes, I see a style and I go ah, I can pick a few shiny bits off this and wear them around.

---

@turtletotem says Your bio says to tell you if we write, so, new follower here, and i write! Lots of fanfic (links in bio) and also original fiction under Shelly Greene and Elizabeth Belyeu (both on Amazon). Feel free to check it out, but I won’t take it personal if you don’t, lol.

I checked your pages on AO3 for this, and alas - No snippets for me first. You write books and novels, which is something I've always aspired towards, and never really suceeded at. I had this view when I started writing short stories that I'd eventually writer longer stories and serials and in fact I just got better at writing short stories. Which isn't much of a tragedy, actually, but it's a road I haven't really moved forward on yet. Writer to writer.

As a reader, I already have several books I've promised to read people. If you have any shorter works (less than 5k words?) lob them my way though! c

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Anonymous says

Just read your post about Atlas Shrugged (my condolences, comrade) and I must, simply MUST ask if you've ever heard of The Cobra Commander Dialogues? It asks the very important question "what if Cobra Commander was there and found this all at best inane and stupid, and at worst it offended his villainous sensibilities?" As someone who hasn't read the book OR watched the cartoon I found it very entertaining!

I just took a peeksies at those - they're beautiful. Dialogue is a great weakness of mine, and it is hard not to be a little envious of this writer. Thanks for sharing this with me.

For the curious

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Anonymous says

Your story about the breakup and the olives and the Slim Jim's and your dad made me cry -- not like, tear up, but an actual good cry for a couple minutes. I don't totally know why I reacted like that but I definitely felt better in some way afterwards. So, thanks. I think I'm gonna remember that story for the rest of my life.

The story stuck with me both because everyone involved was good. My ex's dad, the neighbor, my dad - everyone was doing their best. And it was true, wasn't it? Brains are good at remembering bad things. It's a breakup. And it hurt like hell. But the pain of that memory carries with it this feeling well, even when things suck, people don't. I also liked this view of my dad parenting so consciously. It wasn't a background thing to him. He thought a lot about what he was doing, and what he was saying, and how he was treating me. I owe him big for that.

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Anonymous says

What did you do with the left shoes after your date?

So, I think teenagers like being able to convey fuck you, I do what I want through their clothes. There are punk scenes for that, and goth, and other things. My way of doing that was just dressing aggressively badly. Mismatched plaids and sports jackets meant for people half my height and twice my width, purchased from goodwill, and basketball shorts mixed with knee high socks and on and on. That was part of my teenage rebellion.

Anyway, I added the shoes in and just wore mismatching shoes to make the outfit worse, both because it was a fashion crime, and because it was a litltle inside joke with my friends who knew the story. I wound up losing them over the years because I would use the left sets as makeshift projectiles.

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@galapagos-spinch says

I just wanted to compliment you on your story about wrestling a girl in middle school, you're a fantastic writer

Thanks. I have some regrets about that story, but it was fun to write, and it from a craft standpoint, i am proud of it. I appreciate the comment. :)

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Anonymous says

equality is when young boys aren't allowed physical boundaries i guess

Eesh. We're getting to wrestling asks. Look, when we all signed up for wrestling, we signed up to wrestle girls. It's part of the sport. If your boundary is to not wrestle girls, the way you maintain it is by not signing up for wrestling. The point of my response, which I did not convey clearly enough, was to ask for forgiveness for failure. A middle school boy falling short of the right thing is different from a middle school boy seeking to do the wrong thing, and as a bar, it's...

It's the kind of thing I'd hope people would go, Well, they're shits, but I can't hate them over it. Don't defend us as having done the right thing - we did not. Just, have some grace for the weakness of teens. They're still growing, and if you put too much pressure on them, they'll crumble. And we crumbled.

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Anonymous says

Hey there! Sorry, not actually a question, just wanted to say I've seen posts of yours reblogged before on occasion and I finally started following you because you're a gifted storyteller and your stories are hilarious, poignant, or both!

Oh! A relief. This is so nice. Thank you. Hopefully you read this. Maybe I should turn anonymous asks off or something going forward if I set myself on doing more of these super-bus replies.

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Anonymous says

i am crying with laughter at your stories. the way you tell them is perfect, please never stop

I'll try. I had a several month period of no writing after burning out on HFY. Wasn't sure how to make a genre change. I'll probably have more periods of quiet like that, but to be honest, my writing is probably my favorite thing that I do. I like engineering, and I'm pretty good at it, but I love this, and I am very good at it, and in periods where I don't write it feels almost painful.

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@auronlu says

just sending you some gentle love from an older queer person.

My parents moved to Utah after I went to grad school. I am eternally grateful that my dad turned down that promotion the first time, when I was about to enter high school, because I didn't want to lose my friends and move to Utah and go to school there in the 80s.

So I escaped, but I've seen a little bit of what you had to go through and I've heard from some of my mom's friends that she's made there how hard it is when you don't conform. I'm glad you were able to escape and that you have your own life now.

I bet that girl remembers you and that when these topics come up, she's not as willing to throw people like us under the bus without question.

you did the best you could in a very difficult situation, and by being you, you helped some of the next generation realize the lines they're told about queer people may not be true.

There may have been a closeted or questioning kid in that class, reassured by your example or simple refusal to show prejudice. you don't know what positive impact you had on those kids, but you went in with the best intentions you could and I have a feeling you did more good than you know.

take care and have a good life

( note: my main blog is actuslly @sepdet )

This is actually one of the earliest asks that I didn't want to answer because I didn't want to lose it. For anyone else looking, they're talking about a story I told about teaching primary as a Mormon.

I hope she does. I don't think anyone in the ward ever actually knew I was bi - I kept that very close to my chest. Even after I left. The kids certainly didn't. But they knew that I loved them very much, and they apparently felt strongly that I was a good person. I think the lesson I gave them was that a person can leave the church and still be good. I hope that serves them well.

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@karmaajr says

UR A FUNNY GUY 🫵

aw yissssss

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@abisexualfrog says

Hello, I just wanted to say that I really like your stories and the way you write, your style

Sometimes I’m in a bad mood and then I go read a few of your stories -I especially like the ones at your work- and it cheers me up because of how funny it is. (The fridge story? So good)(oh and the water balloon and and and… endless)

Im not super good at compliment because well English isn’t my first language and all that but I figured I could still tell you, can’t hurt.

So yeah I really really enjoy your writing!! It’s so good!

And not just the stories of things that happened to you, the other ones too, they are also very good

This is another one of the ones I kept because I didn't want to lose it.

Thank you for reading my stories. Your english is fantastic. And it is rare to get comments on my old fictional sci-fi pieces - those were kind of my baby's-first-steps. If you read those you are in deep, and I am incredibly touched.

I'd hug you if I could.

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@rockinhand says

the red bun on those burgers was actually dyed via Beets. i tried it when it was around and it was unremarkable

I know what this is referring to. Surprisingly. But I will leave it be and just enjoy have this remain esoteric bordering on arcane.

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@newkittypoom says

i saw your reblog on that falin fanart and i was like "wait. this is the 28 eggs snake guy?" and i came from the post about your wrasslin days and i saw you answer an ask about being ex-mormon and well. im definitely following the blog for your writing. thanks for sharing these stories!

thanks for commenting! It's flattering to get recognized online. Means my writing voice is distinct. Got a little niche and I'm thrivin' in it.

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Anonymous says

I'm sure someone must have pointed this out by now, but you weren't dating just because she thought you were dating. If that wasn't the kind of relationship you thought you were in, you weren't dating. She was just being presumptuous. You didn't "accidentally date" someone. You can't. Dating is a mutual, consensual thing.

Yeah. Yeah. Phrasing and all.

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@nbspacegay says

(1)

Hi I read your dating stories they are hilarious. I am spiritually holding hands with you because I too am terrible at dating. I accidentally pterodactyl screamed at my boyfriend when he told me he loved me once. I did also love him. I just panicked, screamed and then quite literally sprinted away. I also did not have the excuse of being in high school because I was in university.

(2)

if you so choose you can publish that last ask, i sent it becuase i thought you and your followers might find it funny

(3)

also sorry for sending you three messages like a lunatic, but also feel free to ignore it

I haven't been ignoring this, it just got buried and then I panicked and it has been crushing me like an ancient marsh, squeezing out all my peaty-bits until all that was left was an ultra-flamable bed of hydrocarbons.

Pterodactyl screaming at your boyfriend is a power move. You should do it more often. I am going to answer more questions that way. I had a customer with a masters in geology ask me why I could not provide their specified sample rate, sample times, and sample counts, and I had to explain to them that you can actually only pick two of those numbers, and the third just happens, and that the numbers they gave me did not work that way. It's like saying "I need to drive 50 miles, and I want to drive at 15 mph for two hours." I'm like, yo, go faster, or drive longer, but you have given me a multiplication problem that does not work. And they kept arguing with me, despite the actuall oscilloscope screen telling them, hey, bozo, that math does not math, and I kept trying to reason with them, when in fact I should have just pterodactyl screamed.

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Anonymous says

When I saw your blog title my first thought was that it's a reference to psalm 137 (it's on my mind since it was just tisha b'av) and was wondering why a nonjew would do that, but then I realized you're a fan of Babylon so it's probably a reference to that. And then I googled it and apparently its also a song. So which one/which combination are you referencing?

Also your blind date story was a fascinating read, it made me laugh. Very impressed by your chutzpah

Oh nvm, saw that you answered the above in another ask, feel free to ignore

No, I totally get it. Mormonism robbed and scrambled the iconography of a lot of religions, but the two it yoinked the most from are the Masons and the Jews. Like, it is my culture now, but I will acknowledge that my culture is what would happen if you asked a 14 year old conman from NY to skin your culture and wear it. I can't imagine how weird it must be to hear us talk.

Glad to have you approval on the blind date story though. That was a nightmare.

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@conkreetmonkey says

Personally I think you should do the egg thing again just for the hell of it. I honestly would because you made it sound fun, but eggs be expensive around these parts

My budget is a liiiiittle bit tight for the next month because my wife is doing occupational therapy, but there's a grocery store nearby that sells quail eggs, and to celebrate her finishing that, I am going to be a dozen and shotgun those bad boys. Hell yeah.

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Anonymous says

bulking must be so easy if you can effortlessly consume 15 raw eggs

No, for two reasons.

The first is that it was not effortless. It was effortful. I had to sweat to get them down. I had to fight them into me. I have a very vivid memory of finishing the eggs, and then leaning over to tie my shoe, and feel the eggs start to actually tip out of me, not even as like, puking, but like emptying water out of a boot. I actually had to sit for a half hour after that for the eggs to actually stay.

The second reason is that eating is easy for me, but gaining muscle mass is not. If I work out like crazy and lift weights, I get very wirey, but I never actually get big. I tried bulking one time, and my muscles stayed the same size while the 20 pounds I gained just went right to my belly and I looked like a grape on a toothpick. Very wild experience. Made my peace with being a skinny nerd.

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Anonymous says

just letting you know that you can sterilise raw eggs by keeping them at 130°F for a few hours, you can do this with a sous vide and eat them with no salmonella concerns

I love tumblr so much but all the people that read a story about some idiot eating 15 raw eggs on an impulse and then went ah, yes, this man clearly owns a sous vide machine and is willing to use it are crazier than I am. Get some realistic expecations of the world. Know your audience. You are setting your bar too high, and will find yourself endlessly disappointed. Stop it. This is why left leaning people are so fucking sad. They read the egg story and think they can solve my life with a sous vide, instead of reading the egg story and realizing that there is nothing in this world that could possibly save my from myself. I am not a stupid person. I am a highly motivated clever person who enjoys doing stupid things. There's no stopping that.

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@brambledboneyards says

Hey OP I just wanted to let you know I was informed when I was younger that farm fresh eggs will not give you salmonella. I would recommend fact checking this, but if it does remain true I hope you can date the cravings once more

This is actually good advice. I know several people who own chickens down here. Bless you.

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@queerdo-mcjewface

Some stores sell pasteurized eggs for recipes that require raw or undercooked eggs

Alas, they only sell egg whites down here, which are flavorless. I want the whole egg experience. The slime, the yolk, the cracking open - I appreciate the advice, but no, it's just not visceral enough.

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@decentmonster says

you'd probably love quail shooters tbh, you can get them at most sushi restaurants and theyre served raw and are really good (also safe to eat)

Also farm-fresh eggs are less likely to have salmonella!!

Two months time, I will eat a dozen raw quail eggs.

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Anonymous says

I want you to know the egg story is literally one of the funniest things I've ever read in my life. I laughed so hard I woke up my husband

I think that was the first little life-short-story thing I posted. Maybe? I'm glad you had fun reading it.

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (13) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter

the river next chapter

masterlist

4.9k words

warnings: angst, lots of it, fluff, mental illness, self hate, self destructive behavior, paranoid, scared, unreliable reader, gore, death, violence, cursing, bad familial dynamics, mentions of drinking and partying, unedited, no use of y/n, terms of endearment, allusions of dissociation

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You don't know for how long you'd been sitting in the water when Beetee and Johanna joined you. Their presence startling you out of the bliss of just holding Finnick in the water, as if it was a night back in District 4. But, this would never be that, this was just something Capitol citizens would cry over until they eventually forgot, moved on to new victors.

“We're going to head to the tree where the lightning strikes, so I'll have enough time to set up. Johanna will go with Katniss to the beach and take care of her after they get off the sand.” Beetee adjusted his glasses, you all had to be so careful with your words. To the people watching it had to seem like allies turning against allies, not a cleverly thought out escape plan for the rebellion. You nodded, but not a single molecule of your body wanted to move from where the ocean could rise and fall on you while Finnick's warmth shielded you from any chill.

“With the sun setting, we better start heading that way, then." Finnick began to stand, much to your chagrin, but the sooner this was over you could be safe with each other in District 13. At the very least out of the dangers of the arena. "C’mon, sweet girl.” He pulled you up from the water without a second thought, pulling you comfortably back into his side.

The trek to the tree felt long and grueling from the time you'd spent in the water, you couldn't stop yourself from thinking about your bed back at the house in District 4. That lovingly, delicately made bed where you'd processed the worst and best moments of your life before you slept. “I love you." It was unprompted, but it felt right for you to say to him as he walked, arm firmly around you.

Finnick tilted his head down at you, a soft smile on his handsome face, “I love you too, angel." He kissed your forehead, "Don't ruin the moment by telling me some plan you have of sacrifice.” Although it was playful, you knew he was somewhat serious, he knew you.

You lightly elbowed him and he exaggerated his wince, "I just spend a lot of time proclaiming how I can't live without you and not enough just say I love you, so yeah, I love you.” It felt almost embarrassing to admit, but your brain always felt like a cesspool of anxiety and fear, it had been too long since you'd been able to just be the two of you without a care.

"You know how complicated it is to be married to someone when their way is to live and die for someone when you love them so much all you want is for them to live an eternity?” The smile is still on his face and so’s that playful tone, but it fits where it needs to. If the world was a better place it would never have been a problem that you would follow him to the ends of the Earth. That you refused to wait for him when asked and followed him to the battlefields, but the world was not a better place and you'd dug your own grave in blissful acceptance.

“Yes I do, I'm actually married to him right now." He rolled his eyes at you with a scoff. As the sun faded the more thankful you were for Finnick’s warm touch that made it feel like there were a thousand fireflies under your skin. The closer you were to the tree, the closer you were to Beetee blowing the arena open, so you could live in some semblance of peace for at least a little while.

“Oh, be careful, angel." Finnick steadied you when you almost tripped over a stray root, a reminder that even if you'd been focusing your energy on not losing him, you were injured. The faster you could be in a hospital bed and without a lightness in your head, the better.

“Thank you." The words had barely rolled off of your tongue when you were suddenly in the presence of the lightning tree, which was monstrous as it towered over the other greenery.

“Minimal charring, it's an impressive conductor. Let's get started.” Beetee's voice is clear in the crisp night air, the fluttering and chirps of birds filling the air. Finnick’s warm hand guides you towards the tree, which you would consider to be rather intimidating. Beetee is instantly wrapping coils of the wire around the tree's branches. While he works you let yourself fall into the comfort of Finnick's neck, his scent, the warmth he exudes onto you. His free hand thrumming against your hip and you feel your brain leaving the moment before it's slightly occupied by Beetee's voice once again, “Typically a lighting strike contains five billion joules of energy, we don't want to be anywhere in the vicinity when this hits.” He's seemingly finished with his circles around the tree as he begins walking towards Katniss with the coil. “You and Johanna can go together now, take this, unspool it carefully, make sure the entire coil is in the water, you understand? Then head to the tree at the two o'clock sector. We’ll meet you there.” He's so precise, like a typewriter as it clicks out each letter.

From the look on her face Katniss seemingly does not understand, even in your slightly cloudy state you can tell she's unhappy with the letters clicked out. Peeta must feel the same way as he insists, “I'm gonna go with them as a guard." Johanna and Katniss would be just fine as each other's guards, and you can tell the so-called star crossed lovers plan to flee as soon as they can, not that you blame them. If there was no certainty you could survive with Finnick you would beg to do the same.

“No." Beetee instantly replies, his plan has made it through every cog in his brain. Peeta cannot be the wrench in the system that leads to freedom. “No, no, no, no, you're staying here to protect me and the tree.” The cloudy state is dissipating, if there's a plan you believed in it was Beetee’s and this stopped it from going off without a hitch you could feel the spiral around the corner.

“No, I need to go with her." Peeta stood his ground and you felt Finnick stand up straighter. Your own heart felt like it would thrum right out of your chest if the delay continued.

“There are two Careers out there, I need the guards."

Peeta pointed at you and Finnick, “They can protect you just fine on their own, two for two Careers." You cursed Peeta Mellark for trying to make holes in a plan he didn't even know about, but what he was aware of was irrelevant when you were all so close.

“If you want three, why can't Johanna stay with them too and Peeta and I will take the coil." Katniss interjected, the air was now tense.

Beetee walked closer towards her, “You all agreed to keep me alive until midnight, correct?”

"It's his plan, we all agreed to it.” Johanna chimed in, her voice still full of its usual blunt aggression, but you can sense the anxiety involved in keeping the plan on track.

“We should just stick to the plan and after we'll all meet up in sector two anyways." You try to say it softly enough as to not imply some sort of scheme worked out against the couple.

“Is there a problem, here?" Finnick tilts his head in Katniss' direction. She stares back at him for what feels like hours, like she's pondering her own response.

"Excellent question." Beetee has taken another step forward.

“No, but it should be three and three." Katniss eventually says, looking firmly at Finnick and then at Beetee. “She comes with me and Johanna." Katniss nods to you and suddenly your fogged state is truly gone.

“No." Finnick says too quickly.

Katniss shrugs, “Then we find another way to split it, but three and three is fair." She's trying to use you as leverage to keep Peeta safe, if any cannon goes off she'd attack you, you're sure of it.

The familiar sensation of nausea has once again nestled itself inside of you. How could you leave Finnick after you'd sworn to stay by his side as a reminder of your mutual safety, of you future together? Yet the plan needed to be executed in even less time now, regardless of what the cost may be. Your nose felt congested with the panic, but slowly you forced your heavy head to nod. “It's okay, I'll go."

The way Finnick looked at you for that you're sure will forever stay etched in the darkest caverns of your memory, like you've betrayed him. “Great, there's no problem then.” Katniss has already moved on to say her farewell to Peeta, but the pit in your stomach makes it almost impossible to look at Finnick.

"You said-” You have to stop him before he begins because you know you'll fall into a ball on the ground if the tensions rise anymore.

" I know what I said.” You croak out, "Finnick, there's no other way. We have to do it and I'll be back as soon as it's over. I really, I'm telling you I wouldn't do it if there was. Please, please, Finn believe me. And I'll find you right after.” You imagine you must sound somewhat incoherent in the way you can feel your own voice rushed and shaking, trying desperately to affirm your words. “Please." It's a plea for him to know you're doing it for him, for both of you, not because you didn't sincerely mean what you said. He nods slowly and you almost gag when you can't read the expression in his eyes.

Softly and slowly he taps part of your arm, ‘don’t forget,’ he's trying to say as he kisses your forehead before pressing his own to yours. He's shallowly breathing through his nose as he grips your shoulders.

Your voice is breaking as you beg for his trust, “Please, Finnick."

"It's okay.” He whispers and your brain screams that he's a liar. You don't deserve to have your feelings protected and you'll gladly spend the rest of your life making up for this. Then Finnick’s lips are on yours, the honey, the saltwater overwhelming your senses and you wish you could pause like this forever.

“We have to go." Johanna's gruff voice leads Finnick to pull away and you wish you could cry, grovel at his feet, and refuse to go with them. It's like weights are on your body when you begin to walk away, go back, go back, go back you tell yourself repeatedly. Yet you can't and you have to force your voice back to a normal volume, give a small smile. You've had years of training to act okay, but people from the Districts have always been more perceptive of the acts then those in the Capitol. At least you assume so, other victors at the very least know, the possibility that Katniss could fall into either category means you have to be extra careful. Make sure that she doesn't sense what has to be done to get them out of this wretched jungle.

“Yes, we're on a schedule.” You follow the two of them away from the lightning tree, your saving grace, Katniss is looking back at Peeta, but you know if you look back at Finnick the never ending, nagging self-reproach will make itself known. “We can trade off the coil if it feels too heavy, it's been a long day."

The rocks you're having to climb through don't make the trip any easier and the wounds still untreated in your back get increasingly sore. There's no telling how much distance you've actually put behind yourself and the tree, but it feels like an eternity. Which could just be due to the awkward silence that settled between you all. Apparently Johanna wasn't pleased with however much distance you had made in the time because her voice broke the quiet air, “Come on, I want to put as much distance between me and this beach as possible. Frying is not how I wanna go.”

You murmured out an agreement, somehow in the muggy air your body was still finding ways to be cold. You must just run cold because you could swear there were goosebumps taking over with every slight wisp of the wind. It made you miss having Finnick there with you, to keep you warm. Katniss seemed put off by something you couldn't see, “There's something…” She trailed off, pulling at the coil of wire that refuses to move. With a sudden jerk the wire bounced back, someone had cut it, Katniss dropped the coil behind her. You had less then a second to be caught off guard when Joanna shot you a look and you grabbed the coil, using all your force to knock out Katniss. There was no longer time to wait until after you'd taken the wire to the beach.

Katniss fell over and you tossed Johanna one of your knives, she swiftly was cutting the tracker out of Katniss' arms. Katniss was crying out in pain, you crouched over her shushing her as you saw Brutus getting closer. Johanna's bloody hands surrounded Katniss’ neck, if you were lucky she'd look close enough to death they wouldn't bother checking. Enobaria was in view now too and you took the knife from Johanna, throwing it in their direction which missed miserably, you were off your game.

“Stay down." Johanna hissed at Katniss before throwing her ax which also missed. Then the two of you were running the other direction. Brutus and Enobaria chasing you through the darkened jungle trees.

You could hear, far off, Finnick calling your name. “Where are you?" Yet before you could reply a spear was whizzing past your ear, you ducked, falling into the ground to keep you safe. Maybe if you buried yourself deep enough into the forest floor they would no longer be able to see you, but that was wishful thinking. You could hear grunting that just be fighting and your eyes searched in the dark for where the spear might have been, but you couldn't find it. Then there was a yell, your brain took a moment to register who it must have been, Chaff. A cannon echoed, your brain flashed with memories of how kind he'd been, drunk, reckless, how he could always make you laugh and loosen up at Capitol parties. You didn't know who'd killed him, but he was gone. Another reminder of what you needed to fight for, to escape for.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

District 4 was the same as you remembered it, while almost, even though the attitude was celebratory everything seemed much more bleak to you. You'd stared out the windows as you arrived at the outskirts, the waters were still glittering with the sun, no one was out working though, they must all have to be waiting for me, you told yourself. Sandy beaches and fields rushed past, you were excited to feel the heat underneath your feet once again.

“What's going on in that head of yours, sweet girl?" You'd nearly forgotten that Finnick was sitting not far off, letting you absorb the silence of the train car.

“Just ready to be home.” You allowed yourself to smile, to be excited, you felt like a pendulum of remorse for any positive thing happening, to elation that it was you who'd get those things. Maybe there would be no expected future of a crabbing business with Conway in a small, rickety beach house, but there was a grand home in Victor's Village now waiting for you, its own backyard being the expanses of the beach.

“You won't have much free time for a while, but I'll find time for us." Finnick scooted closer to you, “To picnic and swim as long as we can.” His ocean eyes are so talented at pretending to be okay, it hurts to think about it too hard.

"I'd love that.” He kisses you so softly you feel like the waves are slowly rippling around your body. You want him to consume you like the waves would, for your struggles to be washed away, and to live in the facade of a carefree, partying life he portrays for Panem. Even when you'd dated, sometimes he'd let it slip when it was the two of you, be resigned to his emotions, but most of the time he was full of adrenaline, excitement, laughter, and smugness. Maybe that's what you found so comforting, he could be the highest of highs and the lowest of lows which is how you felt. Conway was peaceful in a way that was almost dull, Finnick's chaos gave you, the peace that you supposed Conway would have given anyone else.

His hands, always radiating the heat of the sun and a thousand other stars, cradled your face when he pulled away to smile at you, “I'll be right by your side for the roughest parts and everything else, we can pretend it's just us, partying and thriving.” You didn't know if you could thrive, but you trusted him, if playing pretend made it easier you'd gratefully live every day in a fantasy.

You were both still young, if you could push away the dread thinking about what your actions had caused, then it would be a cake walk to act like you were still innocent on top of being young, dumb, and fun. Maybe it was true that there was nothing a few drinks couldn't fix, something you'd get to try out tonight, at the party where District 4 welcomed you back as their glorious, crowned victor. When you stepped off the train into the warm breeze made you smile at its familiarity, and the smell of fish that could sometimes reek simply made you ecstatic to be back, especially with the hints of salt water. It was hot and you were so blessed, the train had been blasting cool air as you sat in your tiny sundress, you would've sworn they were doing it on purpose, keeping you cold to remind you of how they'd nearly brought you to death and could do it again if they wanted to. You had no reservations of the Capitol’s cruelty, yet here you were so ready to lap up the rewards for being such a good puppet.

The train station was filled to the brim with familiar faces from all across the districts, school mates, buyers and sellers from the markets that you'd also missed so much, fellow crabbers your father was in competition with, cheering, smiling. Your win meant Parcel Day, meant pride for the District, it had been years since they'd won, not since Finnick, and here you were. You let yourself smile and wave back, trying to not let it falter when your eyes finally grazed over them. Conway’s family, it definitely must have been a requirement to come because they could not have been more than a cloud of complete darkness, a cloud that seemed like it would drag you in if you looked any longer. Some of them with their anger, seething as they started, others with a heartbreaking look of betrayal, and worse of all was his mother. Her numbness that you recognized from yourself that made you want to revert back into it. A voice you recognized called out to you, so you slowly peeled your eyes away from Mrs. Delmare.

Your sister, any feeling of dissociating into yourself fled when you saw her, helping your sickly mother stand. For what felt like the first time in years, they were all smiling. Of course they were, you'd saved them, you could give endless medicines, medical treatments, no one needed to worry about work anymore, not when you'd ensured it for them. Conway's family, the Delmares had a better off business, they had each other to stay afloat. If your sister took your place in the markets, trying to charm buyers, your mother would wither away and so would your shy sister. Maybe you weren't a part of their tight-knit group, but you still loved them and they needed you. Conway had said it himself, had validated that reason.

“Avonlea!" You smiled brighter, waving until your arm hurt. Eventually the Peacekeepers indicated it was time for the train station to empty out, you'd finally get some time with your family before rushing to get ready for a party with District 4’s finest, richest members. When the station had cleared of everyone except them, and of course your escort chatting excitedly with your designer team who'd been dragged along, Finnick and Ondine whispering something amongst themselves you'd run to your family.

You were shocked by your fathers hug, so loving, “Welcome back home, sweetheart." He whispered gruffly, voice deep and scratchy, the last time he'd hugged you was before you left for what he probably assumed was your certain death, and you couldn't remember one from before that. He pulled away from you, "I love you, we all do.” He said firmly.

You hummed out some sort of confused noise, "Everything was televised so when you talked to Conway about…” Your mom's frail voice trailed off into a cough that had you wincing.

"You're an important part of this family, we're sorry if you don't always feel loved, but you are.” Your father finished, gripping your shoulders like you'd slip away. It was sweet, but you'd never had any reservations about them not loving you, it wasn't just about love. It was the way you were never a part of them, whatever things they did together, was for them to do together, you'd go off, find Conway, find a party, and eventually you'd even found Finnick to keep your attentions occupied.

“I love you too." You kept smiling sweetly, “Mama, the new house is gonna be perfect for you, no leaks in the ceiling, the windows will stay shut at night regardless of the wind, the beach in our backyard, and I've already heard of all these new medicines."

“You're a sweet girl." Your mom smiled, reaching out for her cold hands to grab yours, “People might think differently around here after what they watched or think they saw in you, but you've always been caring to the core.” It meant a lot, you'd always envisioned your sister as the caring, compassionate one, not you with your days spent talking at the market as you sold your father's catches, before running off to find the excitement of other people. You felt like you were endlessly selfish, but maybe she was right, maybe your downfall would always be wanting to take care of someone else.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It was more painful to get up than you'd anticipated, rocks scraping your hands, but you couldn't just lay there and play dead. In the faint light piercing the darkness you could make out Brutus fighting with what seemed to be Peeta. Where had he come from? Finnick was supposed to be keeping him safe, when had that all gone out the window?

Johanna and Enobaria were also in hand to hand combat, with one swoop Enobaria could knock Johanna over and rip out her throat with those formidable teeth. The part of you that yearned for Finnick, to listen to him, told you to run, call out, find him, apologize more for leaving once again, but you couldn't leave them like this. You'd have to resign yourself that no matter what you did, you lived in a tragedy of eternal guilt. You threw your remaining knife and it landed on Enobaria's shoulder. Her screech was almost animalistic, she turned to you and that was when Johanna had her swept onto the dirt.

In a mess of grunts Peeta had tackled Brutus. With the way Peeta presented himself it was shocking to see the brutality of his strength especially against someone who you would've ranked among the stronger of the tributes. What looked to be a rock was in his hand, crushing itself into Brutus’ skull, over and over until another cannon went off. Quickly followed by the rumbling of thunder, “Finnick!" You screamed instinctually, you needed to find him. Weren't you all supposed to be far from the tree and in sector two? You didn't even know what sector you were in or where to go from there.

“Where's Katniss?" Peeta asked, his voice rushed.

“She's okay, she's safe." Johanna responded, to the citizens of Panem it would seem like a clever lie, but it was at its core an honest reassurance. Suddenly your body hit the ground again, head hitting a rock, the way it seared made you think it tore open the wound that must have been trying to scab. Your assailant is almost growling, Enobaria trying to rip your throat open. You screech scratching at her hands when what you assume is Peeta throws her off of you.

Johanna helps you stand, but you feel like passing out as she pulls you up. There's something you're forgetting, something that needs to be done, Finnick needed you to do it. The pain burning into your head makes it nearly impossible to focus on what, “Johanna, there's something, god, I can't think of it."

“What do you mean, there's something?" Peeta asks when suddenly there's a buzzing noise, you think it's your head, but the others look up. Something pulses through the dome and suddenly the sky, the real sky is shining through. It's not night, it's bright as day.

“We have to go, sector two." Johanna pulls at your arm, you're excited, this is it, freedom, but you pull away from her.

“Finnick! Finnick!" You yell as loud as you can, stumbling forward when suddenly debris starts to fall from the sky. A tree catches on fire, quickly engulfing those around it in flames.

“We have to go." Johanna urges again, Peeta is confused, stunned.

“No, I told him, I promised." You insist, trying to forge on ahead although you feel like you're going to faint. “Finnick, Finn, where are you? It's me!"

Johanna grabs you again, her pulling is harsher this time, “He'll find us, let's go." But his lack of a response has your blood fused with anxiety, what if he was standing to close when the lighting struck? You had to find him, to make sure he was okay. She pulls you away and you lose balance as another piece of the dome falls. You're forgetting something, you all are, something on the tip of your tongue and you need to find Finnick, he'll know, he'll remind you. It has to be figured out now, he has to be found now, so later he can joke about how helpless you are, how glued to each other you are. A hovercraft, Plutarch should have a hovercraft, but that's not the missing thing.

Tears are filling your vision, fuck, fuck, fuck, you're so stupid, he told you something or showed you something. Why isn't Johanna more concerned, has she forgotten too? You've thrashed out of her grasp when this time a beam falling from the sky is about to fall on you. There's an attempt to move, but before it had you somewhat trapped beneath it, screaming in agony when the pressure hits. “Finnick!" Your screeching is out of breath, but you need him to find you. You're sobbing, too overwhelmed, this is not how it's supposed to go, back aching, head throbbing, burning pressure laying on top of you, and without the one person you need. This is why he didn't want you in here, why you should've resisted Katniss and stayed close.

You were stubborn and now you're going to die here, Finnick's going to spend eternity cursing your name for refusing to just listen to his needs, to his love. You can't hear what Johanna and Peeta are saying, you think they're trying to move the metal, but you can't feel your legs. All the pain is too much that it's suddenly like you can't feel too much of anything, except the fact that your eyes are begging to close. To fade into the darkness, to welcome death, at least you won't have to see his anger, his grief.

Oh your Finnick, the way he tasted like honey when he kissed you, how he smiled and it blinded you, the way his touch was like sunshine. Your Finnick who took care of you at your weakest moments, who took care of you in your best moments. The Finnick you read to, the Finnick who'd always remembered how much you loved peaches, the Finnick who owed you a proper wedding. Your last thoughts would be of him, his brightness before the darkness entrapped you forever.

You woke up to a blinding light, white walls making it even more grievous on your eyes, it was freezing, when you went to move your hands they rattled to the sides of the stiff bed you lay on you realized that death would have been a much kinder master. The vase of white roses already told you your fate would be a lot worse than then the death would have bestowed. When your mind finally caught up with itself, the surroundings had been properly recorded, the first thing you did was to pray for death.

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒂, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you to all of those who've read and supported this series so far, I'm so excited to start the river and explore finnick's perspective during the events of mockingjay. in the mean time feedback is appreciated, comments, likes, reblogs all make my day! I'm always excited to answer asks and requests are open, I'm working on some right now for you guys. thank you all so much for all the support and I love you all 💋

(also lmk if you guys want to be on my normal taglist as well, I haven't been tagging anyone because I'm just running under the assumption most of you just want to be tagged for this, so lmk if you want to be tagged in my one-shots too! you're all so appreciated, I genuinely can't believe people want to be notified to read this little series I made up anyways ❤️)

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