#grabbing my tubes and shaking them and shaking them and yanking them out

[phagodyke]

had a very weird dream the place I worked was in the marine exploration industry and I was presenting a review of a deep sea probe we were retiring and then woke up extremely abruptly bc my body started digging my uterus out with a million tiny blunt spoons YOWIEEEEOWWW

[nctsplug02]

hi can i request for mark smut where he's just obsessed with your boobs and nipples. like he doesn't even care if you're at public place he just needs to touch them. he also likes to play with your nipples at home hehehe

Do Not Touch Mark.L

GENRE: fluff, smut, fwb

WARNINGS: kissing, flirting, banter, FWB, fingering, breast play, nipple play, riding, slight anal play, unprotected sex, spanking, standing doggy, mirror sex, public sex-ish, getting caught in the act, consented recording, possessiveness, and slight food sex play!

AN| i tried being cheesy by using MISAMO as my title.. get it.. hehe.. anyway, the first scene was inspired by a twitter NSFW artist!! this is their account and the art that really was stuck on my mind for a week! i’m gonna make a jaemin ver but i’ll keep itfor valentines… happy readings! ;)

“mark, give up! just face the fact that you’ve used up all the syrup!” you say with your lips pressed together and curved down into a frown.

your brown syrup covered breasts pressed together as mark shakes the bottle and presses it firmly together to squeeze more syrup.

“there’s still a little more, baby. i promise, just be patient and wait with me.” the bottle of chocolate syrup farts and bubbles up as mark uses all his strength as an attempt to squeeze the rest of the syrup out from the bottle.

you sigh as your arms begin to cramp. “dude, my arms are starting to hurt.” you whine and drop your arms, your breasts falling with your arms.

“i know, baby. i know but just.. just a few more minutes, it’s almost all out!” his desperate bug eyes focused on the last tiny drop that teased him by taking its sweet time to drip from the bottle.

“mark, i’m just—“ as you go to sit up, mark pushes you back down and squeezes your breasts together, licking the last bit of the syrup from the tube and mouthing one of your nipple.

you moan and grab a fistful of his short locks. “you’re such a greedy jerk.” you mumble and lock your legs around his waist.

mark throws the bottle and it hits the closet door with a loud thud.

mark moans and moves to your other nipple. you squeeze your arms around his head and kiss his head. “are we done yet?” you ask, playing with his hair.

you give him a smack on the head when he doesn’t answer. “i’m hungry,” you whine. “i want to eat something.”

mark pulls away, his face absolutely covered in chocolate syrup. “eat this dick.” you shove his face and roll the two of you over. “you’re disgusting.” you slide off the bed and grab your clothes off the ground before leaving the room.

“i was just kidding, babe.” mark says while following you to the bathroom. “shut up and go cook me something.” you use a rag and you wet the material, squeezing out the extra water and wiping away the sticky syrup from your breasts.

mark watches with admiration and with a cute grin from the doorway.

“god, how did i let you get away with this idea. ‘such a stupid idea.” you sigh and wash the rag after cleaning your breasts with it.

you hang the rag and slip on your bra, taking little glances at mark who watches you through the mirror. “mind helping?” you struggle with your clips.

“mm,” mark pouts with a smirk. “after you calling me stupid, disgusting and a greedy jerk.. i think you can do it yourself.” his eyes squinting in a taunting way.

you turn to him while holding your straps. “okay, first; i didn’t call you stupid, i just said your idea was stupid. second; i’m hangry and i’m gonna get more angry if you don’t help me. third—“

mark yanks you by the waist and kisses you. “shut up.” he whispers when pulling away. “or i’m gonna shove my dick down your throat.”

before you can protest your angry thoughts, mark spins you and grabs your bra clippings, clipping them together and spinning you back around. “c’mon, i’ll go cook us some ramen.”

mark takes your hand and drags you to his kitchen. “yeah, because that’s the only thing you can cook.” you mumble.

“you should be thankful you’re getting ramen instead of raw, burnt eggs.” you glare at him from behind and you can visualize his smirk.

mark walks into the practice room with two bags of candy and drinks. “oh, finally.” he huffs when seeing the peacefully sleeping haechan on the couch.

“how’d you tire him?” mark asks, removing his black mask and black beanie. “y’know, did what i always do to tire you out.. a little bit of cowgirl.. missionary.. and a blowjob.. whatnot.” you shrug while scrolling on your insta feed.

“hey!” you whine when your phone is snatched from you. “don’t say those type of shit, y/n.” you glare up at him and giggle. “gotcha there, didn’t i?” you stand up with your hands on your hips. “don’t be jealous, remember you’re the one who said no strings attached.”

mark chews the inside of his cheek and watches as you walk past him.

“so, what kind of snacks did you get?” you dig through the bags and pull out a few snacks and drinks. “mm, chocolate covered mushrooms, yum.” you tear the bag open and plop one of the treat into your mouth.

you moan and grab another one. “thanks, markie.” you smacks your lips together and toss a handful into your mouth.

you drop the bag of chocolate when being spun around. “hey!” you’re met eye to eye with an angry looking mark. “if you wanted some, you could’ve just asked.” you go to turn and grab the bag but mark drags you by your ankles so that you’re now underneath him.

“you like donghyuck?” your eyebrows pinch together. “are you actually jealous? really, mark? wow, who knew a little joke would make the mark lee jealous.” you scoff and marks jaw ticks.

mark looks down at your legs and then back up at you. “no, mark. haechan is sleeping right over there— he’s literally six feet away from us!” you didn’t actually know, you just didn’t want to be caught.

“pretty girl doesn’t want to be caught in the act, huh? that’s never stopped you, has it?” you press your lips together and glare up at mark who stands over you with a smirk.

“what, you don’t remember the time you snuck me in your room while your best friend was asleep on the floor next to us?”

you bite your lip. “ugh, you’ve made your point! stop being a jerk and hurry up.” mark watches as you undo your sweats but he stops you.

with frustration burning in your eyes, you glare up at him. “i thought this is what you wanted, no?!” mark shakes his head and quickly glances at haechan who stirs with a moan.

“c’mere,” mark pushes himself off his knees and walks over to the dim corner, he sits himself by the mirror and spreads his legs. “c’mon, brat.”

with a huff, you crawl over to mark, sitting in between his legs with your back against his chest and your knees barely pressed against your chest.

“stay quiet for me, yeah?” mark whispers and gives you a kiss on the shell of your ear.

with your shirt pushed up and exposing your breasts and your sweats pushed down by your knees, mark fingers you with one hand and uses the other hand to tweak your nipples.

his fingers moving fast and curling every time they enter you. his lips softly cursing into your ears while you quietly moan.

his hand curling up and his palm rubbing against your clit. you roll your hips as an attempt to get more pleasure from his palm.

“i’m gonna cum— fuck!” you whimper and gasp when seeing haechans body toss and turn on the tiny couch.

“i said to be quiet, didn’t i?” mark whispers.

you squeal as mark picks up his pace and fucks your pussy with his fingers. the thought of just his fingers getting you off blew your mind, he was talented in so many ways.

“mark,” you pant. “mark,” you roll your hips and grab the back of his neck, bringing his face closer to yours. “i’m cumming.” you whisper before clamping your legs shut and shivering with your orgasm.

you gasp and turn, burying your face into the broad chest of mark. “ooh, fuck!” you cry out into marks chest and dig your nails into the back of his neck.

“ah, fuck. that’s it, baby.” your hand squeezes marks wrist as he tries to keep fucking you with his fingers. “stop, stop..” you pant and push yourself from mark.

mark stares at you, his chest rising slowly and shrinking in the same pace. a worn out grin on his face as he watches your legs twitch and you sitting so breathlessly.

“you’re mean, mark.” you pull your bra and shirt into place and move onto your pantie and sweats. “you know you love it, brat.” you stand and tie your messed up hair into a high ponytail.

“what do you say,” mark stands and grabs you by the waist. “head back to my place?” he bites your shoulder as he stares you down through the mirror.

“we can’t just leave haechan here by himself.” you drop your hands after tightening your pony. “he’s a big boy, he can handle being alone.”

“yeah, i’ll be fine.” haechan says nonchalantly.

you gasp and turn to haechan who lays on the couch with an arm over his forehead. “no fucking way.” you mutter and walk towards the pile of stuff, grabbing your bag and leaving the practice room.

“nice tits and moans, y/n.” haechan says with a small giggle.

mark sighs and chases after you.

“hey, hey, you’re my favorite kind of night.” the song sings while you circle mark with a hungry look in your eyes.

mark grabs your waist and dips you in a circle, gradually grinding his hips into yours. “so, i love when you call unexpected.”

he brings you back up and your noses are barely inches apart. “‘cause i hate when the moment’s expected.” you look at his lips then back at his eyes before smiling cheekily.

you step back from him, slowly and matching the beat. mark follows, curling his lips as he pops his body to the beat.

“so, i’ma care for you,” you stop and look to the side. “you,” mark snakes his hands up your waist and under your breasts. “you.” he smirks and gropes your breasts.

you shove him off you and walk away from him, shutting off the music and turning back to the mark and the crowd.

“damn, you guys choreographed this?” taeyong asks while slipping on his beanie.

“yeah,” mark smoothly fixes his hard-on while staring you down.

“the tension is there, it’s sexy.. hot.. hungry.. just a sexy type of tension is what i’m getting from this routine and i love it.” johnny says.

you snatch your water bottle and unscrew the top. “that’s what we were going for, weren’t we, y/n?” you nod while chugging down a few gulps.

“we’re still working on a few things. i’m a bit rusty and mark has to.. loosen me up a bit.” you screw your lid back on and wipe your sweat away with your backhand.

“although,” you set your water bottle and catch everyone’s attention. “the boob grabbing wasn’t apart of the routine, now was it, mark?”

everyone turns their attention to mark who turns into a tomato. “uhh.. it wasn’t.”

“i think it looks amazing right now.” jungwoo comments. “thanks, pup.” you wink and jungwoo who giggles right after.

“i think you guys should keep that part in, it makes the tension and chreo look more better and attractive.” one of the dance instructor comments.

you look at mark while biting your thumb. “i guess we could make it work, can’t we, markie?” mark lifts his eyes to you and slowly his lips turn into a smirk. “yeah, i guess we can.”

you sigh and clear your throat. “well, i have to go. need to go feed my friends cats and turtles since he’s on vacation in italy.” you grab your things and leave while bidding everyone, excluding mark, a goodbye.

excluding mark; you were going to see him later anyway.

“yeah, yeah. see you guys later!” you could hear marks faint voice while you turned a corner.

feet hitting the floor and loud pants have your head turning. it was mark obviously.

“mark, go back to practice. you’ll see me later.” mark grabs your hand and turns you. “he?” your eyebrows pinch confusingly. “what are you talking about?”

“you said he earlier in the practice room. who is this he dude?” you roll your eyes and fix the strap on your shoulder. “it’s just an old friend from my high school.”

when you try to walk past mark, he pushes you against the wall. “old friend, huh?”

you could hear faint voices from the next hall and it triggered your brain. “mark! get off me, do you want people seeing us like this?!” you whisper and push mark.

mark looks toward the direction where the voices could be heard and sighs, taking your hand and dragging you to an empty dance studio.

“i don’t care, y/n.” mark says after shutting the door, he hits the lights and lights the room in a dim way.

“what do you mean you don’t care, mark. what’s been up your ass this past week? being possessive, obsessive, clingy, bold and letting us get caught by haechan? you’re the one who started this, mark. sure, we fuck but you said no strings attached. stop tugging me in different directions and give me a full on answer!”

after your little rampage, mark grabs you by the jaw and slams his lips against yours. you kiss back and moan, ignoring the taste of blood mixing with his sweet watermelon chapstick.

marks hands move down to your breasts and he tugs down the stretch fabric. exposing your breasts and letting your nipples grow hard.

“fuck,” you mumble in between the kiss and drop your bag, it hits the floor with a thud.

mark grabs your leg and pins your thigh against his waist. you moan when feeling his hard bulge pressed against your thigh.

mark pulls away, biting his lip. “you taste so sweet.” he lifts you off the ground and brings you over to the couch.

“can you be a good girl and ride me?” you bite your lip and slide off marks lap. you kick off your shoes and undress yourself all while mark pushes down his sweats and frees his hard-on.

with excitement bursting through every part of your body, you climb back on marks lap and sink yourself down his cock.

with moans coming from both you and mark, you bounce your hips slowly. taking in the thickness and length of mark.

“you feel so good, markie.” you moan and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

you squeal when mark lands a spank on your ass. “you’re doing so well for me, baby.” mark groans, cupping your ass with his hands and giving your ass more spanks.

you roll your hips side to side and in circles. every now and then, clenching around mark who’d groan every time you did that.

mark reaches in his pocket and pulls out his phone. “wh— what’re you doing?” you ask while panting and slowing your hips down.

“can i record this?” you look behind you to see your ass pushed out with mark inside you, the view in the mirror was amazing.

“yes,” you turn back to mark.

mark hits the record button and spanks you, you let out a moan and jerk forward. the head of marks cock stays out inside you before mark pushes down your hips.

“oohh, fuck.” you sigh, the thickness of mark filling you up oh, so perfectly.

you bounce your hips and hug mark to your chest, his mouth collecting your nipple. you moan and arch your back, pushing your breast more into his face.

mark brings his hand up to his mouth and sucks on his finger. you gasp and slow down your hips when feeling mark push a finger into your ass. “mark,” you whisper. “i’m sorry,” he pulls his finger away from you. “i should’ve asked first.”

you look down at him. “no.. it’s fine, i.. liked it.” mark smiles a little and circles your rim before pushing in gently.

you pick up your pace and bounce your hips in the same pace as before.

“fuck,” mark growls and stops recording. he tosses his phone aside and picks you up, gently setting you aside and then pulling you off the couch with him.

mark kicks off his shoes and steps out of his sweats.

“i want you to watch me fuck you.” mark pulls you in front of him with his hands on your naked hips.

mark knocks your legs apart and bends you forward. he grabs his cock and looks at you through the mirror. “watch, alright?” you nod and stumble forward when feeling mark push into you.

“oh, fuck.” you moan, hands on your knees while you watch as mark lifts his shirt, tucking it under his chin and showing off his shaded abs.

mark holds your hips with both his hands and fucks into you. his hips already roughly pounding into you. your loose hair bouncing with every thrust.

“you feel so good, y/n. so fuckin’ good.” mark moans and tilts his hips to the side, giving himself a good view of his cock slipping in and out of you.

mark hisses and pinches your hips while thrusting his hips. his hands coming up and grabbing your shoulders, pulling them back and tucking his arms under yours.

your back to his chest, your breasts bouncing freely, you on your tiptoes and your hands grabbing marks nape.

“fuck, baby.” mark hugs your waist with one arm and uses the other hand to rub your clit.

your knees buckle and your moans fill up the room. you free mark and you fall forward, knees bent and hands on them while mark still fucks you.

“you’re so perfect.” you clench around him and squeeze your knees together. “i—i’m cumming.. god, i’m gonna fucking cum.” you mumble, eyebrows pinching together as you frown.

“yeah, baby. cum on my cock. show me how good i fuckin’ make you feel.” without being told another time, you cum.

creaming all over marks cock before he shoots into you without warning. “fuck— mark!” he pulls out and jerks himself on your back.

mark pulls you up and turns you to him. “so,” he sighs and holds your waist. “how’s that for an answer?” you bite your lip and look down, trying to hide your flushed face.

mark grabs your jaw and makes you look him in the eyes, his eyebrows flicking up once, asking you to answer.

“it’s a.. good way to answer.” mark kisses you with a giggle. “exactly, now let me clean you up then we can go get dinner and talk about this whole situation.”

“so, you like me.” you say, chewing down your chicken drumstick.

mark snorts, “and, you like me.”

you look to the side and grab your cola can, chugging a bit down and sighing at the fizzy after taste in your throat.

mark sets down his chicken breast and grabs a small onion ring. “miss y/n,” you look down at his hand and snort. “will you do the honors and be my one and only girlfriend.”

mark holds the onion ring with two hands and touches his chin to his chest. “i, (last name) y/n, will do the honors and be your one and only girlfriend.” you hold out your hand and mark slides the onion ring on your middle finger.

“cute.” you examine the onion ring.

“look at me, baby.” you look up to see mark holding his phone up in a position that said he was ready to take a photo.

you hold your hand with the onion ring next to your face and you smile big.

“say, cheeseee!” mark says.

“cheeseee!” you repeat after him with a giggle.

when seeing mark lower his phone, you lower your hand. “you’re so beautiful.” mark giggles and shows you the photo. “you’re good at taking pictures.”

“i’m even better at taking videos. you should see the one i took earlier.” you gasp.

the video he took earlier in the practice room!

“you better delete that, mark lee!” you whisper in a hushed tone. “but, send it to me before you do.”

mark reaches over the table and rubs your cheek, you lean into his touch before he hands disappears. “wha— mark!” you tsk and smack his hand away when feeling his hand cup your breast.

“we’re in public, you perv!” you repeated push his hand away when mark comes back for more. “that’s never stopped us before, has it?”

“oh, shut up! do not touch, mister mark lee.” you back up with your hands crossed in front of your chest.

“i’ll always have access later.” mark says with a shrug.

AN| pt.2 | just like my PUNCH post, it literally has ALMOST nothing to do with the title. i tried to including it but i only tried to include it after i wrote everything and it just didn’t work out for me. but, omg i’ve been so obsessed with ‘Do Not Touch’ by MISAMO. it’s me and sneakylinks current new song beside ‘New Jeans’ by NewJeans. anyway, i hope you enjoyed reading this even though it got very sloppy in the end (i really wasn’t feeling the ending). love you all and thank you to the anon who sent this in a while ago.. i only just answered this now.. sorry, love you! <3

[dxckgrxsonx]

soo… can we get more dickpic storyline?? IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU 🙏🙏🙏😩😩

okay. so this took longer than i wanted. on the upside, i've got about seven different scenes half written out because this fought me every step of the way.

Jason gets a little jealous in this one which i will explore in the next part ;)

MASTERLIST // SERIES MASTERLIST

**

“Do you have to go?”

Panic snaps tight like an elastic band around your chest and you whirl a full hundred-and-eighty degrees to face Jason, breath still frozen solid in your throat.

There’s a pout settled on his face, bottom lip pushed out just slightly, eyes downcast. He looks almost…pathetic really for someone who has the potential to be dangerous. A mean looking bruise grabs at his jaw and annoyingly, it almost makes you cave right there and then.

“Will you stop doing that!” You snap, pitching a tube of lipgloss in his direction. “The idea of dying from a heart attack is so embarrassing. I either die in an epic shoot-out, or I simply just do not die.”

Catching the tube with one hand Jason grumbles and flops face-first onto your bed, “I can’t believe you’re leaving me.” He whines, voice muffled by the duvet. “I bought us facemasks. You’re denying me beautifully moisturised skin. This is the worst thing you’ve ever done.”

“Aw, poor baby.” You mock, standing up from your dresser and draping yourself across his well muscled back. “Is this worse than the time I blew up your microwave? Or the time you asked me to look after your plants and I accidentally killed them?”

Grabbing a pillow, Jason reaches behind him and wacks you with it, “You’re a horrible person and you’re going directly to hell.”

Sniggering, you balance on your knees as Jason shifts underneath you. Once he’s settled so he’s facing upwards you seat yourself comfortably on his stomach. Jason looks at you with nothing but disappointment when you request his attention by sticking a finger in his mouth, but you ignore him and ask, “Will you be there?”

“Get your fucking finger out of my mouth before I bite it off.” He garbles.

“What was that? I can’t understand you.” Grinning to yourself, Jason rolls his eyes and sinks his teeth into your finger. He bites down hard enough for it to fucking hurt and you yell whilst yanking it free. “That was attempted murder. You’re definitely going to hell with me.”

Jason doesn’t reply and you feel the pause in the air. It makes you nervous and you can’t decide if it’s in a good way or not.

“You look really nice.” He suddenly blurts out, and you pause in your anxious examination of your now injured finger. He swallows thickly when you look at him like he’s grown another head, pink splotching clumsily across his cheeks. “But you’re missing something.”

“Yeah.” You agree, trying to control your voice without letting him know that your heart is shaking at the bars of your ribs. “A finger without teeth marks.”

The pink starts dipping to caress his throat and you shift just slightly on his lap, getting worked up about just how far down that colour could reach if you pushed him a little more.

Opening his palm, Jason reveals your lipgloss and he twists it open. You expect him to hand it over to you so you can apply it yourself, but Jason–forever full of surprises–reaches out his steady hand and goes to apply it for you.

His swipes with the wand applicator are precise and you rub your lips together to get them evenly coated, but you end up smudging a small blob of gloss at the corner of your mouth.

Jason’s lips quirk up at the edge and he silently wipes the excess away with the pad of his thumb before you get a chance to even raise your hand.

“There you go.” He says, and his voice is thicker than normal, heavier. “Now you look perfect.”

You find yourself lost for words.

It doesn’t happen often. But sometimes you find yourself grasping at thin air, letters slipping between your fingers like sand.

Well, that's not entirely true.

The right letters are there, but you just don’t know how to hold them yet. And you don’t know what would happen if you stopped hoarding them behind your teeth.

How strange that the fear of something unknown can keep you from being happy; how unbelievably human that is.

Touching the tips of your fingers to the bruise on Jason's jaw you sigh, almost like it’s causing you pain. The colour is dark–recent–not yet starting to heal. Jason exhales and tips his head to the side, baring his throat and letting you explore the edges of the bruising. His eyes slip closed and there's a yearning throb inside you swelling up at just how much trust Jason has in you to be vulnerable.

His hands come to rest on your thighs, thumbs digging into the soft flesh. Sweeping your fingers at the very bottom of the discolouration something catches your eye.

A thin white line stretching across his jugular.

It looks like he’s had this throat sliced open.

Pulling your hand back you say Jason’s name in a near horrified whisper and he turns his head to look at you. There’s something there, written in the lines of his face and the way he looks at you–like you’re everything–but neither of you say a word.

A sudden smile lights up your face despite the sharp wedge of something like grief in your chest and you plant a sticky kiss across Jason’s cheek, “Mwah!”

“Fuck you so much.” Jason says, shoving your head away and wiping the lipgloss from his cheek, but he smiles back at you, Lazarus eyes glittering. “For the record–”

“Oh no you don’t. If the next words out of your mouth are something stupid like, ‘for the record I know you ate the leftover pizza in my fridge last night’ then I’m not listening.”

“For. The. Record…” Jason starts again, “If you’re with me in hell. Then it’s not hell.”

“You’re such a fucking sap, Todd.” Shoving your entire palm in his face he makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat and swats at your thigh. “Sweet talk isn’t going to make me stay home tonight. I’m going out and it’s going to be fun!”

**

You’ve got seven messages to say your friends are waiting outside and you wrestle open your door with a growl then turn to face Jason who’s sprawled out on your couch.

“If I don’t text you by one–”

“I’ll come look for you.” Jason finishes. He’s got a mug of tea in his hands and he picks up the book he left on your coffee table the last time he was at your apartment. “Have fun! Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Pfft. I’ve never been stupid a day in my life.”

“Hey! Remember that time when you–”

“Nope!” You interject loudly whilst Jason laughs. “I’m leaving now.”

**

Your shoes keep sticking to the floor.

Resting with one elbow on the bar you sip at your drink and throw a glance around the crowded club. Bodies are jammed together on the dancefloor and as the music swells the crowd rises to match. The entire atmosphere is electric, the push and pull of thrumming bass and alcohol making your hips sway easily to the beat.

“Well hello there, pretty thing. Can I buy you a drink?”

Pointedly glancing down at the glass in your hand with a slight quirk of your mouth you look up and make eye contact with the guy standing beside you. The first thing you notice is that he looks completely out of place; like he would be more at home somewhere quiet. He fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt and you quickly realise that he’s nervous.

It’s almost endearing if not for the whole ‘pretty thing’ thing.

“God.” He says, laughing to himself and rubbing the back of his neck. “That was absolutely horrible–there’s literally a drink in your hand. I’m so sorry. I must admit, this isn’t usually something I do.”

Across the club you watch as your friends zero in on you, waiting for any sign you need intervention–or an escape. Just the knowledge that they’ve got your back is enough for you to loosen your shoulders slightly.

The air around you twists and swells. Someone else has your back too.

“I agree. That was horrible. I mean, pretty thing? Really?” Someone says from behind you, their voice eerily familiar and sharp. A firm arm snakes around your middle and the memory of having that same thick arm wrapped around you whilst you slept flashes bright behind your eyes. “She’s not interested.”

You've never heard Jason sound like that before. He sounds almost possessive, maybe even jealous and it feels like someone just jammed a taser into your ribs and shot you full of fifty-thousand volts.

“The fuck are you doing here?” You ask, leaning back against his chest, skin warm and buzzing. “But also, thank fuck you’re here. Did you hear that guy? Pretty thing? Seriously? I’ve never felt more objectified.”

Jason laughs and rests his head on your shoulder, “It was boring waiting for you to get back and I didn’t feel like doing facemasks on my own. What are you drinking?”

“Something fruity.” Comes your response and you lift the glass so Jason can take the straw between his teeth. “Are you sure you didn’t just miss me?”

Humming as he takes a sip Jason lets the straw go and turns so he can press his mouth against the shell of your ear, “And if I did miss you?”

Your whole body shudders at the tone of his voice and you just barely manage to stop the whine from coming out of your mouth. His arm tightens around your waist and you can’t deny just how good it feels to have him close like this.

“You could have just called. I would’ve come home, you know?”

“I did call.” Jason rumbles, and you pull out your phone to check. “See. I called you twice and you didn’t answer. You’ve really hurt my feelings.”

“Oh here we go again. You’re always talking about your feelings.” Jamming your elbow backwards and into his ribs, Jason recoils in offence. “I hurt your feelings when I stole all your socks. I hurt them when I burnt that cake in your oven. I even hurt them that one time I laughed when you fell down the stairs.”

“I can’t help that I’m sensitive!” Jason defends, the pitch of his voice touching the roof. He shifts to pinch your waist and you smack the back of his hand.

Patting his arm you spin around to face him, and when you glance up at him you suddenly turn thoughtful–emotional.

“You’ve just got a big heart.” You say softly, reaching up to brush your fingers through the white streak in his hair. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Jason pauses, and you let your hand drop back to your side.

“And yet you laugh at me when I fall down the stairs.”

“Of course.” You deadpan. “Because it’s really fucking funny.”

**

You took your shoes off a few blocks back and they’re hanging from your fingers as Jason gives you a piggy-back ride home. You were fine until you stepped one foot outside the club and then the hit of somewhat fresh air sent your head spinning.

“I really hope my ass isn’t out.” You mumble, head resting on his shoulder. “No one needs to see what underwear I’ve got on.” Jason sighs like every word out of your mouth causes him physical pain. “At least I hope I’ve got underwear on.”

“You are a goddamn disaster.” He says, mostly to himself. Shifting you further up his back when you start to slide down he grumbles, “For fucks sake you’re not making this easy.”

“I live to please.”

“I think I might actually hate you just a little bit.”

“Rude. Now you’ve hurt my feelings.”

“Now, now, pretty thing.” Jason mocks. “Having your feelings hurt is my thing, not yours. So shut up.”

Breaking out into giggles you tuck your face into Jason’s neck and sigh, “The only person I want to call me pretty is you, Jay.”

“Well I’m not going to do it now.”

Without thinking you sink your teeth into his neck and bite down hard enough for it to bruise. Jason stops dead in the middle of the street, his rough hands flex around your thighs and you honest to god hear him moan.

It sounds almost exactly the same as it does on the videos and you shiver.

“Y’make such pretty noises, Jason.” You praise, and run your tongue along the indents of your teeth in his skin. Goosebumps flare up his forearms and you feel him swallow. You wonder for a split second if he’s blushing again. You wonder how far down it goes this time. “My sensitive boy.”

Yawning loudly, you slump your head back against his shoulder, and Jason starts walking forwards again, his pace uneven.

“M’tired.” You slur, half asleep.

“Almost there.” Jason reassures, “My pretty girl.”

**

[ilguna]

☼ perfectly timed pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; when you figure out that the arena's a clock, Finnick promises that he'll be your bodyguard from then on, and he doesn't take that responsibility lightly.

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, murder, gore, blood.

wc; 11k

part one.

–

“I’m not going to tell you right now, though.” You warn Finnick, he doesn’t seem to care. “You can’t say anything just yet.”

“I won’t.” He tells you.

“I’m just going to work out the details.” You say.

The two of you walk a couple of steps, before he realizes that he still has his arm around your shoulder. He removes it, offering you an apologetic smile, before joining Katniss, Peeta and Johanna in the treeline. 

“Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don’t see any of them in there." Peeta says. “I’m going to try to tap a tree.”

“No, it’s my turn,” Finnick says.

“You’re going to put (Y/n) in danger?” Peeta asks. 

Finnick looks at you for a second, “She’ll stick close.”

“I’ll at least watch your back.” Peeta says.

“Katniss can do that.” Johanna says. “We need you to make another map. The other washed away.” She reaches up and yanks a large leaf off of a tree to hand to him.

You shake your head. “I’ll stay here, too, then.”

“No, you’re not leaving my sight, remember?” Finnick motions for you to come.

“Johanna can—”

“Come on, (Y/n). I won’t let anything touch you here.” Finnick takes a step toward you, grabbing your wrist. He begins to pull you into the jungle, you struggle to keep up with his steps.

You travel about fifteen yards into the jungle, when Finnick finds a good tree to tap into. He takes the knife from your hand to stab into the bark of the tree to make a hole with the knife to stick the metal object into. You stick close to Finnick’s side, eyes sweeping the jungle.

Katniss is on guard, too, but she doesn’t appear to be as concerned as you feel. She’s lost in thought, eyebrows twitching in. You look back at the beach, wondering if Finnick will get mad if you go back there, anyway. None of you have any idea what time it is right now, making the jungle dangerous. Katniss said it was going on four, meaning four is beginning…

“Finnick, I don’t think the monkeys are out anymore.”

“We’re fine, (Y/n).” He brushes you off.

“If it’s going on four, then that means we’re in the next hour. We have no idea what we’re facing.”

“The jungle’s fine, see?” Finnick says, straightening briefly to motion to the greenery. “I’ve got you.” He then looks at Katniss, “Katniss, got that spile?”

She blinks, cutting the vines that were holding the metal tube to her belt. She holds it out to him from between her fingers. Finnick’s just reaching to grab it, when a scream breaks the silence. It belongs to a young girl, one that must be terrified.

Katniss drops the spile, whipping around and running straight to where the scream had come from, barely dodging vines and branches as she travels further into the jungle. You shake your head, going to plead with Finnick, but he’s sweeping the spile into one hand, grabbing you with the other, dragging you after Katniss.

“Prim!” Katniss’ shrill scream sounds close, “Prim!” Another agonized scream comes from further in the jungle. “Prim!”

“Finnick, we’re in the next hour!” You tell him, looking behind you to the beach, wondering if Johanna and Peeta can hear Katniss. “We’ve got to get out, not go further!”

“Katniss is our priority.” Finnick tells you firmly. 

You block branches with your forearm to keep them from leaving cuts on your face. The pace Finnick sets is difficult to keep up with, you’re not used to running this far for this long. He doesn’t care, pulling you along, forcing you to keep moving whether you like it or not. You think about stopping, but he’d just pick you up to keep going. 

Sweat begins to run down the side of your face in the same way that the blood rain did, past your ears and to your chin, where it drips on the front of your jumpsuit. You suck in deep breaths of air, but they provide no help, with how humid it is in here. You need cold air, the type that was coming off of the seawater.

“Prim!” Katniss screams. She rips through a wall of green, stumbling into a clearing ahead. The screaming continues, Katniss is looking up, into the trees. “Prim?”

“What is it?” You gasp.

“I don’t know.”

The two of you make it to the clearing, where you struggle to suck in the air that your lungs are demanding. Katniss seems calmer, at least. She’s wiping one of her arrows clean of blood with moss.

“Katniss?” Finnick says.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” She says. “I thought they had my sister but—”

The hair on the back of your neck rises when another scream fills the air, this time it’s not a girl. It’s his. You turn, lips parting as you search the jungle. How can he be here? How did they get him here? He’s supposed to be safe at home, untouchable.

“Zero?” You call.

“(Y/n)!” Zero screams back.

“Zero!” You take off in the direction it’s coming from.

“(Y/n), wait!” Katniss shouts behind you.

You don’t stop, running up the incline, heading for the sound of his voice. You manage to keep an eye on the ground, avoiding the roots and snarls that stick up, waiting to trap your feet in its grasp. 

“(Y/n), please!”

“I’m coming!” You shout, gasping for air, “Zero, I’m coming!”

You duck beneath a branch, not bothering to stop for it. You can hear Finnick and Katniss behind you, struggling to keep on your heels. The further you travel, the faster you go, getting a hang of the incline.

You fly through a group of bushes, tripping over a branch when it catches on your clothes. You fall to your knees, eyes searching the sky above. You can hear him screaming for you, up in the tree.

“Zero.” Your lips are trembling as you get to your feet. “Zero!”

“Help!” He screams.

Katniss and Finnick come through the bushes, panting. You move around the tree, tears in your eyes that you wipe away.

“I’ve got it.” Katniss tells you, “I’ll get him.”

“Zero.” You murmur. “My brother, they have my brother? How is that possible?”

Katniss sticks her fingers in the bark in places you couldn’t have begun to imagine. She scales the tree, the branches and foliage concealing her. She doesn’t say a word, but the screaming stops. And something falls from the tree, landing in the grass at your feet.

Finnick picks it up, turning it over in his hand. 

Your face smooths. “It’s a jabberjay.”

Katniss slides down the tree, coming to join you two. “It’s all right, (Y/n). It’s just a jabberjay. They’re playing a trick on us.” She says. “It’s not real. It’s not your… Zero.”

“No, it’s not Zero, but the voice was his.”

“Jabberjays mimic what they hear. Where did they get those screams, Katniss?” Finnick says.

Katniss pales. “Oh, Finnick, you don’t think they…?”

“Yes I do. That’s exactly what I think.” Finnick says.

You struggle to get your hands to stop shaking, palms flat against your thighs. You and Finnick share a long look, as Katniss sinks into the ground, fingers grabbing at the grass.

Zero’s supposed to be safe at home. You promised him that he’d be okay without you, he’d be protected by the neighboring victors. If anything happened, he would be the first person they retrieved so he could be protected if a war broke out. You didn’t think that they’d just collect him to torture him for samples…

“We have to go.” Finnick says, “This must be the hour.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you.” You look at him.

“I know, I should’ve listened.” He turns his attention to Katniss. “You have to get up, we need to get back to the others.”

She doesn’t respond, doesn’t so much as glance in your direction to confirm that she’s heard what he said. You wipe the sweat from your forehead, pulling at your fingers. You don’t like being here, in the middle of the jungle. You’re so exposed.

A bird starts to scream off to your right, this causes Katniss to leap to her feet, jerking in the direction. Finnick catches her arm before she can run. “No. It’s not him.” He starts pulling her downhill, you stick close to them. “We’re getting out of here!” Katniss doesn’t care, struggling to get free. “It’s not him, Katniss! It’s a mutt!”

Zero’s screams overlap, your feet freeze in place for a second, you stiffly get them to work again. Finnick glances at you, you press your lips together, sliding your arm beneath his to keep together. 

As you go further away from the screams, Katniss is less combative. In fact, she becomes eager to get out of the jungle, pulling you and Finnick behind her. It takes only a few minutes for you to reach the treeline, where Johanna and Peeta are standing there, unmoving.

Finnick lets go of Katniss, but you keep your hold on him.

Peeta’s got his hands raised, palms facing towards you. His lips are moving, but there’s no sound behind it. It isn’t until Katniss and Finnick run smack into the transparent wall, do you know that it’s there. The two of them fall back on the jungle floor, Finnick pulling you down with him.

Katniss grips at her shoulder, but when you look at Finnick, you see that his nose is gushing blood. He must’ve hit it face-first. You search the area nearby, and find some of the moss that Katniss had been using earlier to help clean up Beetee’s back. You pull it from the rock, handing it to Finnick.

“Thanks.” He squishes his nose. “So much for going to the beach.”

Johanna and Peeta shake their heads, and even demonstrate that the wall is unbreakable, by swinging their weapons at it. None of you even bother to try to check any of the other walls, all that’ll happen is you’ll be met with disappointment when you can’t make it through there, either.

For the next minute, you think that this will be manageable. You can sit through and listen to your brother screaming for help. Then the birds arrive, one by one, perching in the surrounding branches. An orchestrated chorus of screams and pleas begin to spill out of their beaks.

You slam the heels of your hands over your ears, pressing tightly. “No, no, no!”

Finnick comes over, guiding you to the wall, helping you to the ground. He doesn’t seem affected by the screams, he even pries your hands from your ears, only then to immediately replace them with his. He blocks them out entirely, but you still reach up to hold them there, afraid of the sounds that are happening out there.

You watch for a while as Katniss empties her quiver of arrows into the birds. She’ll take one down, and it’ll be replaced by two more. When she realizes this, she stops, coming to sit beside you and Finnick, clenching her own hands over her ears to keep out the wretched noise.

You keep your eyes closed for the remainder of the hour, distracting yourself by thinking about the plan to kill off the Two tributes. You come to the conclusion that it’ll work best if you hide in the trees, let the tidal wave come at ten, hike up to the lightning tree to somehow connect the wire to the tree, and then bring the spool back down to the beach before the lightning hits. By then, Enobaria and Brutus will want to be out of the jungle, and they’ll get electrocuted to death.

That is, unless the rebel plan takes over first. As far as you know, the mentors haven’t sent any hints as to what day and what hour you’ll be executing everything. Haymitch worked out a plan, hopefully fool proof. You’ll use the type of district bread for day, and the amount of bread for the hour. 

He’s supposed to send multiple rounds of the bread to confirm that it’s still happening at the same time. You haven’t thought to ask about it until now. Before, your mind was occupied with the jungle, then a plan to kill the careers. With that almost done, you need to look at the final and bigger picture.

Finnick’s hands loosen from your ears, you’re left with an ache in the area from how hard he was pushing. The hour must be done, because Peeta is now sitting with Katniss, and you can’t hear anymore screaming.

Your head falls into your hands as you rub beneath your eyes, sighing. Finnick gets to his feet, when you look up, you can see he has his hand out for you. You take it, letting him pull you to your feet.

“Thank you, Finnick. You didn’t have to do that.” You place your hand on his shoulder.

“They have no one to use against me, (Y/n).” Finnick says, “And I didn’t want to watch you being tortured.”

Your eyebrows twitch, “Right.”

“I’m going to go find a tree to tap.” Finnick tells you.

“Do you want me to go with?” 

“No, stay here with them. I’ll be back in a minute.” He says, picking up his trident. He strides off, presumably toward the original tree that he had carved out before the birds attacked.

“It’s all right, Katniss.” Peeta whispers.

“You didn’t hear them.”

“I heard Prim. Right in the beginning. But it wasn’t her,” He says. “It was a jabberjay.”

“It was her. Somewhere. The jabberjay just recorded it.” Katniss says, not budging.

“No, that’s what they want you to think. The same way I wondered if Glimmer’s eyes were in that mutt last year. But those weren’t Glimmer’s eyes. And that wasn’t Prim’s voice. Or if it was, they took it from an interview or something and distorted the sound. Made it say whatever she was saying.” He says.

What Peeta says gets you thinking. He’s right. You thought the same thing she and Finnick did, until Peeta mentioned the distorted sound a second ago. At home, you learned how to do that in school. It’s basic technology manipulation. You’re not sure why you didn’t think of that before.

Maybe it’s because you wouldn’t put it past the Capitol to kidnap and torture innocents. Zero has never been directly in contact with the capitol, unless it’s through you. Even then, they don’t focus on him for very long.

“No, they were torturing her.” Katniss says. “She’s probably dead.”

“Katniss, Prim isn’t dead. How could they kill Prim? We’re almost down to the final eight of us. And what happens then?” Peeta asks.

“Seven more of us die.” Katniss mutters morbidly. It’s almost comical.

“No, back home. WHat happens when they reach the final eight tributes in the Games?” He lifts her chin. “What happens? At the final eight?”

Katniss doesn’t respond right away. “At the final eight?” She repeats. “They interview your family and friends back home.”

“That’s right.” Peeta says. “They interview your family and friends. And can they do that if they’ve killed them all?”

“No?” Katniss asks.

“No. That’s how we know Prim’s alive. She’ll be the first one they interview, won’t she?” He asks, Katniss is apprehensive still. “First Prim. Then your mother. Your cousin, Gale. Madge,” he lists. “It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we’re the only ones who can be hurt by it. We're the ones in the Games. Not them.”

Finnick is coming back through the trees, a woven bowl in his hands. They hardly pay any attention to him. He hands you the water first, you take a few sips out of it, giving it back to him.

“You really believe that?” Katniss asks.

“I really do.” Peeta says.

Katniss looks at Finnick, who’s handing her the bowl of water. “Did you hear any of that, Finnick> Do you believe it?”

“It could be true. I don’t know.” His eyes land on you. “Could they do that, (Y/n)? Take someone’s regular voice and make it…”

“Yes, I completely forgot it was possible at first.” You let out a sigh. “It’s not even that difficult. Our children learn a similar technique in school.”

“Of course Peeta’s right. The whole country adores Katniss’s little sister. If they really killed her like this, they’d probably have an uprising on their hands.” Johanna says flatly. “Don’t want that, do they?” She throws her head back to shout, “Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn’t want anything like that!”

You look at Finnick, and then out at the beach. “We should move.”

“Good idea.” Peeta agrees, sweeping Katniss into his arms. 

Finnick grabs the bowl of water that was left behind, offering it to Johanna. She holds her hand out, “I’m going to pee.”

“No, don’t.” Katniss calls. “The birds—”

“They can’t hurt me. I’m not like the rest of you. There’s no one left I love,” Johanna says, walking away.

You and Finnick make your way to the beach to join Katniss and Peeta, who are now sitting in the sand. You find the wire sitting by a tree, reflecting the sunlight. Finnick places the bowl of water on top of it to keep sand from getting inside. He doesn’t stop to sit down, wandering to go be in the water.

You sit in the shade, knees against your chest as you stare at Finnick’s back. You knew he was going to keep you safe, but you didn’t realize that he was going to take every measure necessary. He pulled you away from the careers when you went to grab Beetee, took Enobaria’s knife in his thigh for you, and then dived in the water to grab the wire so you wouldn’t.

And now he’s keeping you close. 

“Who did they use against Finnick?” Peeta asks.

“No one.” Katniss murmurs. “It was (Y/n) and I.” She glances at you, “Her brother.”

Peeta looks over too, curious now. “I think I remember. (Y/n), there was a tragedy, wasn’t there?”

You nod, not speaking right away. You’re surprised he even remembers, your Games took place almost eight years ago. It wasn’t a very popular one because of how boring you’d been the entire time. The only notable event was the fire that took place, eating up the entire forest that you’d been using as your shelter. It’s how the Two girl was able to find you, because you had to adventure out and pick new spots to rotate between, places she’d frequented and knew like the back of her hand. 

What Peeta’s asking about isn’t about the arena and that fire. It was what happened a couple months later after you’d arrived home. You used to be bothered by people asking what happened exactly, but a few years ago, you realized that it was going to haunt you if you didn’t let it go.

You started out as a miracle, the first Three victor in a good number of years. When you didn’t follow the ideas that the people had around you, it sparked controversy. Where Beetee helped the Capitol with projects, you refused to even step foot on a train to go back if it wasn’t for mentoring. 

Your parents wanted you to pursue the Capitol, in hopes that it would make a better future for generations. You didn’t listen, so they decided they were going to stay in the childhood home. Your brother was supposed to, too, except he frequently slept over at your victor house, because it was bigger and warmer. 

One night, the home was set aflame. By the time you got the news, there was nothing left to salvage, whoever had done it did a thorough job. The peacekeepers investigated it for a couple months, but they stopped when they couldn’t find any more information.

It killed your parents, and your brother would be dead too, if he hadn’t stayed at your house that night, like he wasn’t supposed to.

“My childhood home burned down, killing my parents.” You tell them. “I only have my brother.”

Peeta nods, stroking Katniss’s hair. “I’m surprised they didn’t use Annie Cresta against Finnick.”

“Who?” Katniss asks.

“Annie Cresta. She was the girl Mags volunteered for. She won about five years ago.”

You raise your eyebrows, and then allow your face to relax. You don’t think about Annie much, she was one of those victors that got covered up quickly. Kinda like Johanna, except she refuses to let the light go out on her. The Capitol can’t either, because she’s the only female victor in Seven. She has to mentor tributes.

“I don’t remember those Games much.” Katniss says. “Was that the earthquake year?”

“Yeah. Annie’s the one who went mad when her district partner got beheaded. Ran off by herself and hid. But an earthquake broke a dam and most of the arena got flooded. She won because she was the best swimmer.”

“Did she get better after?” Katniss asks. “I mean, her mind?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember ever seeing her at the Games again. But she didn’t look too stable during reaping this year.” Peeta says.

“From what I heard, Finnick and Annie broke up two years ago.” You draw a figure eight in the sand. “She’s not doing well.”

That’s all hearsay, though. Information that you’d gathered over time while you mentored. Annie won, the following year, Finnick was still by himself mentoring. The year after, he was the happiest you’ve seen him in the Capitol. Then last year, he was back to who he was before.

Johanna comes out of the trees a few minutes later, arrows in hand. She drops them in a pile next to Katniss and Peeta, who murmur out a thanks. A cannon blasts, Finnick rises to come join the rest of you in watching the hovercraft. It appears over the six-to-seven zone, and dips down five different times to retrieve the pieces of one body. There’s no telling who it was.

Once again, Peeta gets a leaf to draw a new map, adding JJ for the jabberjays in the four-to-five area. He writes beast in the area the tribute was collected in pieces. With the map, you’re able to see where you sit on the clock face again.

Finnick makes a net for fishing, going out into the water to throw it. Katniss joins him to take a quick swim, and then sits at the edge of the water to clean the fish that Finnick catches. The sun sets fairly quickly in this time, the moon rising on the other side.

You’re all beginning to settle down to eat when the anthem begins, followed by the faces of the dead. Cashmere, Gloss, Beetee, Mags. The five of you sit in solemn silence, trying to be respectful for one another. The women from Five and Six, with Blight and the man from Ten pulling up the rear.

Another eight dead.

“They’re really burning through us.” Johanna says.

“Who’s left? Besides us five and District Two?” Finnick asks.

“Chaff.” Peeta says, not missing a beat.

You continue to draw in the sand, watching as a parachute comes down from behind the trees, teetering from side to side. “We’ve got a sponsor gift.”

Peeta gets to his feet, letting the parachute land in his palm. He sets it down in the middle with the rest of the food, pulling back the square of fabric, allowing you to see its bread.

That’s right.

There’s a pile of small square shaped rolls. “These are from your district, right, (Y/n)?”

“Yes, from District Three.” You lean forward. “How many are there?”

Finnick gets to counting them, being thorough by turning each one over in his hands before he sets them into a neat pile. “Twenty-four.”

“An even two dozen, then?” You ask.

“Twenty-four on the nose.” Finnick meets your eyes. “How should we divide them?”

“Let’s each have three, and whoever is still alive at breakfast can take a vote on the rest.” Johanna says, Katniss lets out a laugh. 

The five of you eat the food that’s presented in front of you, passing around the water bowl to whoever asks for it. They try to keep up conversation, but you’ve already sunk back into your mind. 

District Three means day three. Twenty-four rolls of bread means midnight. They want you to be at the lightning tree, don’t they? It’s perfect for the plan you went through this afternoon. Your idea to kill the careers will act as a cover for the real rebel plan that’s taking place.

When you’re done eating, the bread rolls are placed into a dry bowl to keep them safe. You retreat into the woods when the wave comes, wait for the water to recede, and then head to that part of the beach to make camp. If everything goes according to plan, there should be a full twelve hours before you have to move again.

There’s a chorus of clicking coming from the eleven-to-twelve wedge. You all agree to keep away from that area and the beach, in case the insects are waiting for misstep in that area.

Katniss and Peeta volunteer to take watch, because they’ve had the most sleep out of all of you. Johanna goes down without a fight, she’s only had an hour all day. Finnick finds a space between you and Johanna. You’re a little different, though. While they fall asleep almost instantly, you can’t find the same peace.

You get to your feet, this causes Peeta to sit up.

“Is there something wrong?” He asks.

“No, I’m just going to take a walk. I’ll stay in sight.” You tell him.

You pull off your shoes, dropping them where you’d been sitting. You then wander down the beach, even going a few steps into the water. When you’re sure that you’re far enough away from them, and they won’t be able to hear you, you stop.

A shaky breath escapes your lips as you lean over your knees. You breathe deeply in through your nose, trying to calm the aching feeling that’s growing in your throat. You sniff, closing your eyes, shaking your head.

Beetee was more than your mentor. He turned into your second parent after yours died. He made sure that you settled into your house, that you were sound enough to take care of your brother on your own. He even got Wiress to offer to volunteer for you, if you weren’t up for this. 

And now he’s gone.

You can’t help the tears that escape, placing a hand over your mouth as you sob into your fingers. You knew that there were going to be sacrifices made, he even warned you that there was a good possibility that you could die, too. You just never thought it would be him.

You get tired of standing, opting to sit in the water. It’s warm, not at all refreshing. You don’t care, you don’t want to go back over there. It’s clear Katniss and Peeta needed time by themselves. You don’t want to see the looks on their faces either, when they realize you’ve been crying.

You just hope Zero is being good for Wiress. The victors are all supposed to watch over him together, but she said that she’d keep a close eye. Zero told you he wouldn’t get into any trouble, it’s hard to believe him. He’s got the whole house to himself and no older sister to limit him. He has to have some idea of what kind of danger he’s in though, right?

A crack of lightning hits the tree, altering you that it’s now midnight, officially bringing you into the third day. You hear a shout coming from camp, and when you turn to look, you see that Finnick is sitting up in the sand. He looks to where your shoes are, and then his head whips in your direction.

You sigh, getting to your feet. Either you go back, or he’s going to come over here. You walk through the water most of the way, enjoying the way the water laps over your feet. When you get there, Katniss is just laying down, Finnick is taking her spot.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Finnick asks.

“I’m not tired.” You tell him, which is part of the truth. You did sleep most of the night last night, but if you were to lie down again, you’d be left to your thoughts. Same if you stayed away. “I’ll stay with Finnick, Peeta. Go ahead and be with Katniss.”

“Are you sure?” Peeta asks, he’s getting to his feet.

“Yeah.”

Katniss looks over her shoulder, watching as Peeta goes to join her. You sit where Peeta had been, which faces the jungle. You cross your legs, stabbing the knife Finnick gave you into the sand, and leaving it there.

Neither of you speak for a long while. Katniss and Peeta must fall asleep fairly quickly, wrapped around each other. You brush the sand from your legs once it’s dried.

“I’m sorry about Mags, I know how close you two were.” You murmur.

“Thank you, (Y/n).” He says. It’s quiet between you two for a moment. “You were wrong, you know.”

Your eyebrows twitch. You turn your head far enough to see the back of his shoulder. “About what?”

“Annie.”

You press your lips together, he must’ve heard you talking earlier to Katniss and Peeta. “I’m sorry, Finnick. I didn’t mean for it to be malicious.”

“We never dated.” He says. “She was my best friend before she went into the Games. Recently, we haven’t been as close.” He shakes his head, you can feel his hair brush the back of yours. “I was surprised they didn’t use her against me during the jabberjays, and then I realized that it must be because we’re not even friends anymore.”

“What happened between the two of you?” You ask, “If you want to talk about it.”

“It’s a short story.” He pauses. “She started getting better after her Games, so I started to visit her more. And when I thought that she could handle it, I asked her if she’d take over mentoring temporarily.”

You hum. “She wasn’t ready?”

“She called me selfish, we stopped speaking altogether.” He sighs. “I guess the Capitol has eyes everywhere.”

“Of course they do. You really thought they didn’t?” You laugh slightly.

“I had hope.” He chuckles, letting out a breath. “Did you work out the details to your plan, yet?”

“Yes, actually. And I think it’ll be a perfect addition to the plan.” You elbow him, as a way to nudge him into your line of process.

“Really? Let’s hear it.” He says.

“We should wait for the others.” You tell him.

“What, are you afraid that I’m going to claim the idea belongs to me?”

You laugh, “No, I guess I could tell you.” You clear your throat, “I was thinking, if we want to take out the careers, we should do it tomorrow night. The wire isn’t completely useless. See, the wave happens at ten, which makes the sand damp, and with the lightning at midnight, it could work as a conductor. We could electrocute the shit out of them when they come down to the beach, thinking it's safe.

“Or… for something else, if we find it.”

Finnick laughs, “That’s a great idea, (Y/n). This is with all the kinks worked out?”

“More or less.”

“I’m glad you’re here, I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“You’d survive, figure it out on your own but a little slower.” You look down at the beach. “You don’t need me here.”

Finnick moves behind you, you look over your shoulder to see that he’s turned to face you. “That’s not true, you need to give yourself more credit.”

“Fine, you’d be lost without me.”

“I mean it, (Y/n). We need you here. You’re just as important.”

You give him a smile. “Thanks.”

—

As much as you wanted to be the one to keep Finnick company for the night, Johanna woke up a couple hours later and insisted that she swap with you. You didn’t feel tired, but laid down anyway. Sure enough, you went out like a light once your eyes were closed.

You didn’t sleep for long, the arena is unusually hot today. The sand is burning your sensitive skin, which you’ve opted to occasionally splash water onto in order to keep cool. It works, partially. The water is warm, but if you time it right, it’s perfectly paired with a breeze.

You kick water in Finnick’s direction, he looks up from his trident, giving you a challenging head tilt. A warning that if you continue, he’ll come over here and teach you a lesson. You give him an innocent look, and then go back to standing knee-deep in the water.

Katniss stirs on the beach, rolling over to squint at the sun angrily. She’s going to have to get in line if she wants to explode the damn thing. None of you are happy with the Gamemakers right now.

You turn to look at the jungle, and find another parachute coming down from the sky. “Sponsor gift.”

Peeta and Johanna look up from the leaf map that he made last night. Finnick gets to his feet, taking a few steps and catching the gift before it hits the sand. You get out of the water, joining them in what little shade is covering the beach. When he sets it down, you’re able to see that it’s more bread, twenty-four rolls, all coming from District Three again.

It’s divided so that everyone gets five, leaving eight left over. You eat in silence, listening to the waves eat up the sand, and then retreat again. You play with the end of the wire, twisting it into a spiral, before pulling it straight. You need to tell them about the plan you’ve made, it just has to be done at the right time.

Katniss gets up, grabbing Peeta’s hand, pulling him in the direction of the water, “Come on. I’ll teach you how to swim.”

He doesn’t fight her. The three of you watch as they go about waist-deep into the water, then she begins to teach him basic strokes. Finnick gets up to collect vines, strategically weaving them into a net. While Johanna refuses to take her eyes off of the teenagers for longer than ten seconds at a time.

She must be worried that they’re going to run off, but if that were the case, Katniss wouldn’t have left her bow here. The only thing they can do now is talk to one another, which is what they did last night, too. If they try to leave, they’re not going to make it very far. They’ll be hunted down within the hour.

Johanna yawns, “I’m going to nap, wake me if anything interesting happens.”

She scoots back so that her upper body is protected from the sun. She uses her arm as a pillow, and bends her other arm over her eyes to make it easier to sleep.

“You can sleep, too. You don’t have to sit with me.” Finnick says.

“I’m fine.” You shrug. 

Finnick works quickly, creating the net in a circular shape. He explains to you that if it’s bunched up, he can throw it a certain way and it’ll expand and cover more water. You stare at him for a few long seconds, wondering if he thinks you’re stupid or if it’s the other way around.

“You mean… a casting net?” You ask slowly.

Finnick blinks, “You know what a casting net is?”

“Finnick, I know what a lot of things are.” You breathe a laugh. “A casting net is one of them.”

He smiles, shaking his head. “Right.”

“Hey, Finnick, come on in! We figured out how to make you pretty again!” Katniss waves her hand.

He looks up from the sand, eyebrows drawing in. She’s talking about the scabs that they’re completely covered in, which was a result of the ointment they used because of the poisonous fog. Finnick gets to his feet, leaving the net next to you as he goes over to join them.

You watch as the three of them use handfuls of sand to rub off the scabs gently. They take turns helping each other get the ones on their back. When they’re done, they come out of the water to apply another round of the medicine because their skin isn’t taking well to the sun.

“I think it’s time we talk about the careers,” You tell them. “I doubt they’ll attack us openly again, now that they’re outnumbered. We could track them down, but it’s dangerous to pursue them.”

“Do you think they’ve figured out about the clock?” Katniss asks.

“If they haven’t, they’ll figure it out soon, just not as specifically as we have. They must know that at least some of the zones are wired for attacks and that they’re recurring. And the fact that our last fight was cut off by Gamemaker intervention will not pass over their heads, as much as we’d like to think it will.

“We know it was an attempt to disorient us, but they’re going to be asking why it happened, and that might lead them to the clock idea, as well.”

“Wait, let me get Johanna up.” FInnick says. “She’ll be rabid if she thinks she missed something this important.”

“Or not.” Katniss mutters, you tilt your head, agreeing with her. 

Still, he gets Johanna awake and up to speed. She crosses her arms, staring at you intensely. You squint at her briefly, before making Katniss and Peeta scoot back.

You draw a circle in the sand, dividing it into twelve wedges. “If you were Brutus and Enobaria, knowing what you do now about the jungle, where would you feel safest?” You ask, looking between them.

“Where we are now. On the beach.” Peeta says. “It’s the safest place.”

“So why aren’t they on the beach?” 

“Because we’re here.” Johanna sighs impatiently. “Is there a point to this?”

You ignore her. “Exactly, we’re here, claiming the beach. Now where would you go?”

No one speaks for a second, until Katniss does, “I’d hide just at the edge of the jungle. So I could escape if an attack came. And so I could spy on us.”

“Also to eat,” Finnicks ays. “The jungle’s full of strange creatures and plants. But by watching us, I’d know the seafood’s safe.”

You smile, “Of course, now that we’re all on the same page, here’s what I propose: a twelve o’clock strike. What happens at noon and at midnight?”

“The lightning bolt hits the tree.” Katniss says.

“Yes, so what I’m going to suggest is that after the bolt hits at noon, but before it hits at midnight, we run Beetee’s wire from that tree all the way down into the saltwater, which is, of course, highly conductive. When the bolt strikes, the electricity will travel down the wire and into not only the water but also the surrounding beach, which will still be damp from the wave at ten. Anyone in contact with those surfaces at that time will be electrocuted.”

Silence takes over as the words sink in, you let them think it over. You’ve had more time to work out the finer details of the plan between telling Finnick last night and this morning. You’ve found every issue, and carefully ironed it out. If it works the way you want it to, you’ll be all set for Haymitch’s plan.

The looks on their faces are giving you different ideas on what they want to say. Peeta starts first. “Will that wire really be able to conduct that much power, (Y/n)? It looks so fragile, like it would just burn up.”

“Oh, it will, but not until the current has passed through it. It will act something like a fuse. Except the electricity will travel along it.” You play with the wire.

“How do you know?” Johanna asks.

You take in a breath, “I have come to realize that Beetee invented it.” You look at her. “I’ve worked with wire, and this isn’t any wire, it’s the one he created. It’s not wire in the usual sense, just like how the lightning natural lighting or that tree a real tree. You know trees better than any of us, Johanna. It would be destroyed by now, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.” She nods.

“There’s no need to worry about the wire. It’ll do its job.”

“And where will we be when this happens?” Finnick asks.

“Far enough up in the jungle to be safe.” You tell him.

“The careers will be safe, too, then, unless they’re in the vicinity of the water.” Katniss says.

“That’s right.” You agree.

“But all the seafood will be cooked.” Peeta objects.

“A lot more than cooked.” You laugh. “We will be eliminating that as a food source entirely this way, but Katniss found other edible things in the jungle, right?”

“Yes. Nuts and rats.” She says. “And we have sponsors.”

“I don’t see it as a problem, then.” You smile. “This isn’t something I can do on my own. I say we go for it, but it can’t get done without you four. The decision on whether or not we do it is up to you.”

Katniss looks between them. “Why not? If it fails, there’s no harm done. If it works, there’s a decent chance we’ll kill them. And even if we don’t and just kill the seafood, Brutus and Enobaria lose it as a food source, too.”

“I say we try it. Katniss is right.” Peeta nods.

Finnick looks at Johanna. They share a long look while she decides. “All right.” She finally says. “It’s better than hunting them down in the jungle, anyway. And I doubt they’ll figure out our plan, since we can barely understand it ourselves.”

Finnick then looks to you, “What’s next, (Y/n)?”

You smile. “I need to take a look at the tree.”

The five of you get to pack up your belongings, with Katniss telling you that she believes it has to be somewhere around nine in the morning. You have to leave the beach soon, anyway. When everyone is ready, you head to the beach that bordered the lightning section, and Johanna takes lead into the jungle.

Finnick follows after her, then you, and Peeta and Katniss take up the rear. It’s a straight shot up to the tree, there’s no need for directions. The further you travel, the harder it is to convince yourself it was a good idea to hike. You hated it during the first day, too, but you didn’t complain nearly as much as Beetee did. To be fair, though, he did have a nasty gash on his back.

You hum a short tune, which earns you a glare from Johanna. You pretend you don’t see it, because the silence is killing you. The birds aren’t nearly as vocal here, they were much louder in the blood rain wedge. Then again, after yesterday, you’re not sure if you want to see a bird for the next year.

When you begin to near the top, Finnick makes a suggestion that Katniss should take the lead.

“Why is that?” You ask, beating Johanna to the question.

“Katniss can hear the force field.” He says.

Your face twists, and so does your body as you go to take a look at Katniss. You and Beetee were the ones that showed her in the first place, in the gymnasium. You were sitting together at the fire station, fixated on how the Gamemakers decided they needed the protection. That’s when Katniss came along and enlightened you; she’d shot an arrow at them last year. 

However, the force field doesn’t have a noise to it. It didn’t in the gymnasium, and it didn’t when you got close to Blight’s body. What Finnick is saying right now isn’t possible, otherwise there’d be a constant hum in the arena depending on how close you were to the force field.

“Only with the ear the Captiol reconstructed.” Katniss tells you.

That’s bullshit, and she knows it too. Maybe this has something to do with Peeta running into the force field on the first day. She chose not to tell them what she knew, possibly afraid of what the Gamemakers would do with it.

“Interesting.” Is all you say, moving out of the way to let her pass.

The lightning tree is unmistakable. It towers high above the trees that surround it. Katniss takes a handful of nuts, slowly moving toward the top. You peer around her, and when you see a square ripple, you know that you have plenty of room to work with.

Katniss throws a nut, which hits the wall and sizzles. “Just stay below the lightning tree.”

With that, everyone divides up different jobs while you take a closer look at the tree. Finnick follows you, continuing his guarding duty. Johanna decides to tap a tree for water, while Peeta gathers nuts and Katniss wanders away briefly to hunt for the tree rats.

You stare at the tree, arms crossed over your chest as you think. Finnick stands beside you, trident in his hand, occasionally glancing at you to see if your face has changed. You can’t imagine how boring this must be to him, especially when he has no clue what you’re looking for.

You take the spool of wire, find it between your fingers to see how thick it is. With how tightly its wound, there’s got to be miles of the wire. You won’t have to worry about running out of it between wrapping it around the tree and bringing it back down to the beach.

Speaking of the tree, it doesn’t look right now that you’re standing in front of it. You knew that it wasn’t a real tree, but you thought the inside of it would be the artificial stuff, not the outside. You run your fingers over the bark, and find that it’s weirdly patterned.

When you look at the trees behind you, the appearance of those are completely different. It’s almost like the Gamemakers made half an effort at trying to hide that it’s not real. Or maybe, making the bark anything other than fake could increase the potential of setting the entire jungle on fire.

You wander around the tree, and Finnick follows for a while, but when he sees that you’re making rounds in circles, he steps back and watches you. You measure the tree, thinking about how much wire it’s going to take to make the plan actually work. The base is thicker than you thought it would be.

You stop at the sound of the wave, which causes the others to pause, too. A few minutes later, Katniss comes out of the trees, bearing three tree rats. She draws a line in the dirt to remind everyone how far away they must stay from the force field, and then proceeds to sit with Peeta to roast nuts and sear cubes of meat.

Johanna joins them after she’s had enough of making fun of you to Finnick, who seems less than interested by the names she’s calling you. You stop between the force field and the tree, looking at the malfunctioning square, then back at the bark. You wonder…

You break off a piece of the bark, which doesn’t come easily. Katniss tells you and Finnick that the food is ready when you are, so as you go over, you toss the bark against the force field. It bounces off, landing on the ground, glowing a bright orange color. It takes about a minute for it to return back to the original bark color.

“Huh,” You let out, “Well, that explains a lot.”

The bark and the force field are made of the same material. You should’ve guessed.

You take a seat next to Finnick, picking at the nuts and meat chunks. 

“I have a question.” Your attention turns to Katniss, Peeta and Finnick. “Regarding Peeta and the force field situation. What happened, exactly?”

“Peeta was clearing a way with his machete and he hit the force field.” Finnick tells you.

“With the machete?” You ask, “And what happened to the force field?”

Finnick shakes his head, and Peeta looks lost too. Katniss, however, sighs, “It disappeared, and then it came back.”

You hum. Whatever you do around the lightning tree must be with precaution from now on. You’re not an expert on the force field subject—Beetee would’ve known more—but weapons cannot come into contact with it. You think that’s where the problems will arise, since you were able to touch it with your hands.

The sound of clicking nearby causes the rest of you to glance in the direction. It’s eleven, only an hour left until twelve. The noise is far louder here than it was on the beach last night. You quiet to listen.

“It’s not mechanical.” You tell them after a minute.

“It has to be insects.” Katniss says. “Maybe beetles.”

“Something with pincers.” Finnick adds.

The sound increases, as if the insects are dying to get to you.

“We should get out of here, anyway.” Johanna says. “There’s less than an hour before the lightning starts.”

Katniss brings you to the next section over, which happens to be the blood rain area, stopping next to the identical tree here. With food being interrupted before, you resume here, finishing what’s left in the bowls. You wait until Katniss is done eating and the insects fade out, before you ask her to climb the tree to get a better look for you when the lightning strikes.

It shakes the ground, you and Johanna share a look. You might not like each other, but the uneasiness begins to stir in your stomach. The idea of being here, only an hour before the rain, makes you feel sick. You don’t want to be covered again, not if you can help it.

Katniss comes down from the tree a few minutes later. She goes on to tell you that the lightning takes the entire tree, which makes it glow a hot blue-white. The air up there was crackling with electricity.

“Perfect.” You murmur.

With that, you feel satisfied enough to go back down to the beach. The sand is damp, clear of any footprints until the five of you begin to step on it, leaving a clear trail wherever you walk. There’s nothing to do beyond this point but wait, you fiddle with the wire, wrapping it around a large stick to see how much it would take to make a dent, since it’s so thin.

Katniss, Peeta and Johanna lay down to sleep. Finnick watches you curiously, occasionally asking questions that you’re more than happy to answer for him. By the time the lightning has stopped and the rain has begun, you’ve decided that you’ll have to work quickly tonight, and might even need help.

You yawn, Finnick’s eyes snap to you. “Sleep.”

“Finnick.” You warn, “I’m fine.”

“We need you at your best. If anything happens, I’ll wake you.”

You sigh, not really wanting to argue with him. You make him promise to keep an eye on the wire, before joining the others in the shadows to nap. 

—

A hand roughly grabbing your bare calf jolts you awake. You sweep the knife out of the sand, swinging it to stab while you open your eyes to see who it is. Another hand grabs your wrist, and you’re met with Finnick’s cheeky face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you like that.” Finnick lets go of you. “Johanna pushed me over.” Johanna’s standing behind him, her arms crossed, staring down at you. She laughs, and then turns away. “We’ve got more food, if you’re hungry.”

You shake your head, “No, but I’ll sit with you.”

The others are only a few feet away, shifted to let you sleep but also to chase the shade, since it’s growing slimmer. Finnick must’ve woven more bowls, because the amount has multiplied. Finnick reaches to help Katniss and Peeta clean out the seafood, while Johanna wanders around in the treeline to keep an eye out for the careers.

Peeta pops open an oyster, laughing. “Hey, look at this!” He holds up a glistening pearl. “You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls.” He says to Finnick.

“No, it doesn’t.” Finnick says, cleaning a fish. Katniss laughs, you give a smile.

Peeta rinses it off in a bowl that holds unopened oysters, handing it to Katniss. “For you.”

She lets him set it in her palm. “Thanks.”

Peeta’s smile fades. “The locket didn’t work, did it?” He asks, you avert your eyes. “Katniss?”

“It worked.” She says.

“But not in the way I wanted it to.”

Silence, as they shuck open shellfish and oysters. You watch as Finnick easily cuts away scales, making squares beneath, and shaking them free into a bowl. He works quickly, he must’ve been doing this whole life. He even feels comfortable enough to look away for several seconds, into your eyes.

“You’re going to cut your hand.” You tell him.

“I won’t.” He says, tossing the fish scrap into the trees. “Do you want to try?”

“No, I’d rather watch.”

He smirks, getting to work on another fish. In the time it takes them to finish what they’re doing, you’re a little hungry. Johanna’s just coming to sit down with you four, when she stops at the sight of another sponsor gift. She catches it, and when she sets it down, you’re able to see that it’s a red sauce for the seafood, and another pile of bread.

Finnick counts them, “Twenty-four again.”

So it’s settled, the plan is happening at midnight, tonight. 

With there being thirty-two rolls in total—eight being leftover from this morning—it’s divided so that everyone gets five again, leaving seven. You dip a chunk of fish into the red sauce, and the moment it touches your tongue, you close your eyes, letting out a hum.

“It’s good?” Finnick asks, reaching to do the same.

“It’s spicy.” You tell him. “So much better.”

It improves the flavor, making you hungrier. While they gorge themselves on everything in front of them, you take your time, not wanting to be so full that you feel like throwing up. You still have to hike up the hill, and it’ll be more difficult than this morning after a meal.

The red sauce is completely gone by the time they’re done, and there’s still food left over. They make sure that you’re full, and then they toss the leftovers into the sea because it won’t be good in a couple of hours. And no one wants to give the careers an opportunity to eat.

Katniss and Peeta go to sit on the edge of the water. Johanna goes back to patrolling, and you and Finnick sit and do nothing. That is, until he gets up to talk to Johanna away from you. You pull your knees to your chest, leaning forward into them, staring absently into the jungle.

The anthem plays a couple of hours later, but there are no faces in the sky tonight. The only people left in the arena are your group, the careers, and your missing member of the bigger alliance. There will be no more deaths until the careers.

When Finnick and Katniss believe nine o’clock has rolled around, you leave the shell infested camp to go to the twelve wedge. No one speaks as the hike begins, but it’s clear in the first ten minutes that they’ve eaten too much, because they’re walking at a slower pace. Miraculously, you feel just fine.

At the tree, Finnick takes point being your help, while the other three stand guard nearby. You pick up a branch, wrapping it in wire, and then make Finnick stand on the other side of the tree, as you pass it back and forth. You’re not sure if he notices, but you have him help you do it in a pattern, slowly drifting downward, and then back up, and then down again, covering as much of the bark as you can.

Your fingers brush his each time you hand it off, and you have to hold your breath to kill the butterflies that swarm.

You’re done with the wire around the time the wave begins. You gather together, holding the wire out for Johanna. You take your time explaining to them that this part is crucial. They need to carefully unwind the wire as they go down through the jungle, lay it across the beach, and throw it as deep into the water as they possibly can.

“Johanna and Katniss should take it, because they’ll be quicker. I’ll stay up here to make sure nothing goes wrong on our end.”

“I want to go with them as a guard.” Peeta says, shaking his head.

“You’re too slow.” You tell him flatly. “We can all see it. Besides, I’ll need you on this end. Katniss will guard.” You look at Katniss. “There’s no time to debate this. I’m sorry. If they want to get out of there alive, they need to move now.”

“It’s okay.” Katniss says. “We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up.”

“In the one-to-two sector, not in the lightning zone.” You tell her. “If you’re running out of time, move over one more. Don’t even think about going back on the beach, until I can take a look at it.”

Katniss cups Peeta’s face. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you at midnight.” She kisses him, turning to Johanna. “Ready?”

“Why not?” Johanna shrugs. “You guard, I’ll unwind. We can trade off later.”

The two of them begin to go down the slope, you barely look at Peeta, eyes landing on Finnick. He spins the trident in his hand, and then he moves away to watch the jungle. You cross your arms, standing close to the wire, watching as it goes rigid from them pulling it on the way down.

You pace, taking measured breaths to calm the anxiousness rising. It’s not the wire you’re worried about, it’s the rescue plan. You have less than two hours to pull this off and get lifted out of the arena. Hopefully you’ll be all together by then, making it an easy rescue.

You just hope they already have your brother somewhere safe. If you get out of here, and they don’t have Zero, you’re not sure if the rebels will bother keeping you around. You won’t help. You swear you don’t lift a finger to help them. It’s what you did after your Games, it’s what you’ll do now if they go back on their promise.

It’s almost twenty minutes later, right when the clicking has begun, the wire snaps, you turn to look at where the sound had come from. You watch as it bunches and curls, stopping at the tops of your shoes.

“Finnick.” You say, but he’s trying to make a swipe at Peeta.

He’s gone, running down the slope, leaving you and Finnick to stand there, dumbfounded. It has to be the careers, they’re not on the beach. They’ve been stalking you the entire time. And now that you’re split, it’s the perfect time to attack.

“Stay here.” Finnick orders, running after Peeta. “Stay!”

He disappears into the jungle, leaving you by the tree. A part of you wonders if you should go running after him, because he’s supposed to be guarding you. You know better than to move, your feet firmly planted in the grass and dirt. The careers won’t come here, they’re too busy.

Your hand reaches to grab onto the tree, needing something to lean onto, because the ache in your feet is beginning to become unbearable. Finnick told you to stay here, so that’s what you do. You won’t move a muscle, if it means that you make it out of this jungle tonight.

You don’t know how much time passes before a cannon goes, fifteen minutes, maybe? You hold your breath, waiting, straining to hear if there’s any yelling happening out there. Finnick calling for Katniss and Johanna, Peeta calling for Katniss, anything.

It’s too quiet.

Your eyes slide to see the stick that you’d set aside earlier, as well as yards of the wire that you’d unraveled to have on standby in the case of an emergency. If your plan didn’t work. While it was supposed to electrify and kill the careers, there was a good chance that it’d short-circuit the force field, too.

Now, with the wire here and nowhere near the water, you need another way to fry the field. No one is going to make it out of this arena alive if you don’t fix this. 

A new idea creeps into your mind, whispering in your ear, telling you that a sacrifice has to be made. Your eyes go from the stick, to the malfunctioned square on the force field that you’d spotted earlier, finding that it is, still, very much there. If you can’t do it through water, you can surely do it with the tree and the force field, you just need something to act in between…

The knife.

You move for the first time in thirty minutes, falling to your knees as you dig through the grass to find the knife that Finnick gave you in the Cornucopia. You find it only a few feet away, pulling it into your hands. You then remove the wire from the stick, wrapping it around the blade, instead.

You look at the force field, taking deep breaths to calm the beating in your chest. This could go two ways. The first way is that you drive this knife into the square, your fingers lock around the handle of the knife, and you die. Or, you get electrocuted, and by some miracle you walk out of this alive. 

That’s all you want. To get out of here, and have a chance at seeing your brother again. He can’t live in this world without you, he won’t do it. He’ll have no one if you die. But, if this means that he won’t have to live in fear of the Hunger Games, then you’ll do it.

You’ll do it a thousand times.

You get to your feet, gripping and fixing the knife in your hand. You approach the force field, swinging your arm back, aiming for the square. And the second it connects, there’s a loud zapping sound, and then you’re airborne.

—

You breathe in deeply through your nose, as if you haven’t in the past ten minutes. A tight and sharp pain hits the center of your chest, stopping you in the middle. Your eyes open, staring at the bright, silvery light overhead as you try to carefully let the air out.

Your eyebrows draw in, turning your head to the side, blinking away the blurry vision. There’s several beds to your right, and on one of them, it looks like Katniss Everdeen is hooked up to machines, tubes in her arms. They did it, they got you out. Where’s everyone else?

You can’t help the groan you let out as you sit up, wincing. You place a hand over your lower stomach, and you’re able to see that your skin is covered in soot and blood. You rub it away the bed you can, swinging your legs off the bed to get on your feet.

If it were the Capitol that got you out, they would’ve sedated you, and ensured that you wouldn’t wake up during the ride. This is the work of Haymitch, letting you wake up on your own to go to them. 

You drag your feet through the room, leaving Katniss as you pass through a doorway, entering a narrow hallway. With your free hand, you reach to hold onto the wall as you go. Your forearm is bandaged, they must’ve gotten the tracker out. It seems as if their stitching could use work, because there’s blood seeping through, more than there should be.

You don’t care.

The metal door at the end of the hall is open a quarter of the way. You push it open, and on the other side, you can see Haymitch, Finnick, and the Head Gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee.

Haymitch looks up first, letting out a noise, prompting the other two to look. “Back from the dead.”

“(Y/n).” Finnick breathes. He’s dressed in a grey robe, the same that you are. He shuffles around the table, opening his arms.

You let him hug you, pulling you into his body tightly. You squeeze your eyes, the pain being more than you were prepared for, but you laugh, hugging him back.

“It was a smart idea, trying the knife on the force field.” Plutarch tells you. “It’s what sparked Katniss to do the same. It caused some chaos, we weren’t able to get everyone out, but we didn’t expect to, anyway.”

You pull away from the hug, “Who did we leave?”

“Johanna and Peeta.” Haymitch says.

Your eyebrows twitch, “Who was the cannon?”

“Chaff,” Finnick says. “I don’t think you were awake when the other cannon went off. Peeta killed Brutus.”

“What about Enobaria?”

“Taken by the Capitol, as well.” Plutarch says.

“Oh.” You breathe, “Is there somewhere I can sit?” Finnick leads you to a chair, your whole body aches when you go to sit down. When the motion is done, the relief is immediate. “So, where to now?” 

“District Thirteen.”

[jinlias]

in an attempt to be discreet, you tug your skirt the slightest bit higher as you walk towards her office. you’ve been summoned, technically, and even though you just saw each other this morning, you hope what ever she needs from you is anything but work related.

you gently make your way inside, but momo is nowhere to be seen. as you scan the office, you realize the glass door beside her desk is wide open. initially panicking, you speed walk outside, to be met with the relieving sight of your lover leaning against the rail, looking out to the city.

“hey” she smiles, making a grab for your waist when you join her.

“is everything okay?” your hands caress her shoulders, waiting an answer.

“splendid” she sighs, trying to mask her frustration with a smile and dancing the tip of her finger by the small slit showing skin. “just needed a little break”

you giggle and welcome her lips when they reach you, placing your pointer and middle fingers on her jaw, holding her in place. she’s had a hell of a day and she’s letting it all out on you, with the way she kisses you, the way she grips and squeezes all parts of you and how she needs to have you closer.

even as she turns you around and yanks your tube skirt and thong just a little above your ass cheeks, she presents two of her fingers for you to wet with saliva, and when she’s satisfied with your job, she leads them to your entrance and gently thrusts them inside. momo hums in delight as she feels your cunt clench around her. she pressed loud, wet kisses behind your ear as some breathy sounds escaped you.

“i can’t wait until we get home” she groans against your ear “but for now, this should suffice”

being so exposed had you pushing your ass back to her for more while you moaned as loud as you liked. you were standing right outside on the 8th floor, not very discreet either way as her office is also glass.

but that’s what edges you closer, the thought of anyone walking in to reach her and accidentally just seeing the two of you. thinking of one of your coworkers getting turned on had you feeling tickes in the pit of your stomach.

and the way you weren’t even touching her yet she was enjoying it just as much as you, making lewd noises and staring at your cunt as she quickly thrust her fingers in and out, watching as it swallowed them whole.

it was the quickest of quickies, and just as you were coming, shaking in her hold and having to swallow repeatedly to get yourself on track, you hear a smidge of employees through the wide open glass door, looking for momo for some opinion on something you quite couldn’t catch due to the ringing in your ears.

momo helps you fix your outfit and cant help when her hands cup your cheeks and her lips meet yours in a quick set of pecks “see you at home gorgeous?”

“actually, i was thinking we could maybe do something at my place?” her eyes widen adorably at the thought of something different, at the thought of you being comfortable with her to begin and share your own little side of things.

“sounds great” she smiles and you can see the adrenaline and excitement written across her eyes. “i’ll see you there” she presses a couple more pecks on your lips before she hurries out of her office to satisfy the employees.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

About the ask about the animorphs being defeated, it seems like the end of 5 could have let them fight their way out.

Okay, okay, a way for them to escape at the end of #5...

• The first thing Jake suggests is that Rachel demorph, and remorph to wolf. Which gets everyone staring at him like he's nuts. If Rachel changes morphs, Ax points out, then a controller will almost certainly see her through the window of their cell and conclude they're human.

«Doesn't matter,» Jake says, «because Marco's about to demorph anyway. We need Rachel able to fight.»

That gets everyone to stare at him in confusion some more.

Everyone except Marco. «Jake, buddy. That thing out there... it's not her. She's gone, and Visser One's in charge.»

Jake looks at Marco, waiting for him to remember, two weeks back, Tom's voice shouting for them to stop and Tom's hands firing a gun at their retreating backs. «I know,» he says at last. «But you're still the best diversion we have. It's that, or die here.»

«What?» Tobias asks, but Cassie's looking between them in growing comprehension.

• So Marco demorphs. And when the door swings open, Visser One's forces find a human boy standing on the other side, flanked by a pair of wolves.

"Hi," Marco says. "My name's Marco Alexiou Encarnacion. And I promise, if you tell your boss that, she's going to want to see me."

The hork-bajir-controllers look at each other, say a few things in a language none of the Animorphs know, and then one grabs Marco by the arm.

"Not without my friends!" Marco cries, and — after another exchange of words — one of the controllers gestures for the others to follow.

«Eyes open,» Jake says. «Ax, where are our exits?»

«The main hatch will be on the bridge, Prince Jake. And we may be able to survive a fall from this height, if we morph birds on the way down. There will also be several drop shafts, translucent oblong tubes that function...»

«Like an elevator?»

«It elevates the user, yes. Or produces a controlled fall.»

«Good enough for me.»

• The controllers don't take them by the bridge, and this time they're not led to a drop shaft. Instead, they're taken to a back office in the ship. One of the controllers raises a tentative claw to knock. Marco's grinning, posture casual, but his skin has a greenish tinge and his hands are shaking.

"Visser? Ma'am?"

"What is it? I told you to get rid of the— The..."

"Hi, Mom."

• Eva's face — Visser One's face — freezes like an old TV set. Then, like a set between channels, it warps: mouth twisting, eyes darting, skin tightening. This lasts for an infinite second, before Edriss's haughty indifferent snaps back into place.

Then her hand shoots out, grabs Marco's arm, and yanks him into the room. She shouts a command, and the doors snap shut between him and his fellow Animorphs.

«Ax, door hinges!» Jake shouts. «Tobias find us an exit — Cassie and Rachel, we're covering Ax!»

They get to work instantly, Ax scything his tail down again and again at the seam between the door and the wall. (It isn't a hinge, but even he knows now is not the time to explain that.) Tobias takes off, fighting hard against dead air, brushing walls with feathertips.

There's no time to watch him, because the hork-bajir-controllers are on the other three. Jake takes one by the throat, gets slammed with a knee blade to the gut, worries his teeth into flesh even as he lets out a cat scream of pain. Rachel and Cassie coordinate as only wolves can, cornering controller after controller with one at the ankles and one at the soft underbelly.

Claaaang! The support strut of the door falls to the ground, along with a chipped-bloody piece of Ax's tail.

«Prince Jake!»

He can't help, claws locked into a controller who has claws sunk into him. «Go! Ax, go!»

Rearing back, Ax slams both front hooves into the door. It falls inward with a ship-rattling BOOM.

• Visser One gets yanked back from the door, out of the path of injury, by Marco's hand on her shoulder. He can't help it. He's helpless not to, even if he knows better.

Ax looks at Marco, then at Visser One. There's no discussion between them, but Eva takes a blow to the side of the head and a gorilla lopes out close behind the andalite.

It's the best they can do, under the circumstances.

• «I've got an exit!» Tobias yells, from deeper in the ship. «I've got a hatch, anyway!»

They run, a juggernaut of muscle and teeth. They don't stop to fight the controllers that get in their way, and they don't stop for the ones that try to surrender either. The halls are narrow, and there's no time for murder or mercy.

«There, right?» Tobias points a talon, when they reach him.

«There,» Ax confirms, and then, «Brace!»

He presses a hand to the pad. The ship screeches a warning, as the hatch slides open.

Six Animorphs, and eight or nine controllers, get sucked into the Earth's outer atmosphere. Those that can morph do so. Those that cannot...

Six birds land safely on the ground, a few minutes later.

• "We have to evacuate our families." Rachel's pacing in the middle of Cassie's barn, a few minutes later. "They're not going to be safe. Connecting Marco to Jake won't take a huge leap, and from Jake..." She chops a hand at the air. "Me. Cassie. Tobias."

Marco pushes to his feet. "I need a minute."

Jake opens his mouth, glances at Cassie for confirmation. "Don't go far," he says at last.

«Ax and I are fine,» Tobias says. «So maybe we start with Cassie's family?»

Cassie looks around the barn. They can all read the expression on her face, much as none of them want to. Even with a phone call to the nearest similar facility, kidnapping her parents will doom every animal in here: the injured deer, the litter of fox kits, the lizards and geese.

There's a sputter of a ripcord being pulled, and the roar of an engine starting up. They all startle, glancing around.

"Sorry," Marco calls, "Just me." He steps out of one of the unused stalls, looking grim. "You think your dad would mind me borrowing his chainsaw?"

"For what?" Rachel says flatly. "We morph, remember?"

"Yeah." Marco shrugs. "Maybe I'm feeling a little vengeful, right about now. Like I want to look that slug in the eye when I..." He flattens his mouth, looking away.

"We have to get our families out." Jake speaks as gently as he can, pulling them back on subject. He's tired, suddenly so tired. It's really hitting him now, headache building between his eyes.

"Then I'm going to borrow your phone, if that's okay." Marco looks at Cassie, who looks as exhausted as Jake. She nods.

Rachel sits down next to Cassie, burying her face in her hands. "My mom and sisters..."

"I know," Cassie says. "I know."

• Marco shuts the door to the barn, walking into Cassie's kitchen. The phone is there in its cradle on the table. There's plenty of time to pick it up, his eyebrows drawing together in concentration as he dials the thirty-digit number from memory.

"Please hold," the automated voice on the other end says, and there's a click.

While waiting, Marco sandwiches the phone between his ear and his shoulder and trails the cord back to the door that leads to the barn. When it eases open a crack, a smile breaks over his face at the sight on the other side.

The gas generator he started a minute ago is still running, and all five free Animorphs are lying on the floor. Good. He'd worried that the barn might be too ventilated for the fumes to build up properly, but it looks like even Ax is now down for the count. Jake gasps weakly, still half-conscious, but it looks like Tobias is already dead.

The phone clicks again.

"Odret One-Seven-Seven," the thing inside Marco says into the phone. "Requesting pickup from Visser One, at the north Carmel Wildlife Rehabilitation Clinic."

[potteryheadd]

No Time To Die Ch.1

Pairing: (Eventually) Bucky Barnes x enhanced!reader

Summary: Endowed with the Infinity Stones, Reader is racing against time to save the universe with the help of MCU hero’s they meet along the way. 

Chapter Summary: Reader makes a tough decision that changes not only their life, but the universe. 

Warnings: angst, Suicidal Ideation (and plans), mild(?) Torture, kidnapping, medical equipment use (tube inserted in body), 

Word Count: 2.6k

a/n - Ahhhhh this has been a long time coming for me. I started this story a year and a half ago when I was in a very dark place. Thankfully with much deserved self reflection and support I am ready to come back to this story. Now, with the help of some of the BEST beta readers I’ve had the pleasure to meet, the first chapter of this series is ready for your enjoyment. ^.^

 p.s I envisioned the reader as plus size and black (cause that’s meee) but it can be read regardless.

Big thanks and love to my beta readers: @srhwho​ @beating-a-dead-plot​ @the-singular-peep​ @who-you-gonna-message​

It’s all gone. 

I’ve finally finished selling all my things, and an empty apartment lies before me. A ghost of what it used to be, really. From furniture, appliances, wall art and throw blankets, down to the Marvel comics and movies I never finished. Given away. I had thought to keep everything the way it was when I left but I know the money I’ve saved can go to a good cause.

The tub is warm and soothing, water nearly spilling out but stays bubbled around the edge as I slip deeper into it. The smell of my last Christmas candle lingers in the air and, if it weren’t for the bottle of pills on the toilet seat cover next to me, I might’ve said this was a pleasant experience. As I stare at them, I can’t help but think how long it would take, would it hurt, should I have picked another way?  

It’s okay, this is what I want. Right? I promised myself if I did everything I could and nothing worked, this could be it. 

A glimmer catches my eye and I turn to see the last thing I own, a photo. A photo of the only thing I wanted to see before I go, my friends. The ones that really made me believe things could change. We met by chance but were held together by our love of nerdy things. What would they say about me now?

Tears stream down my face as I grab the photo, wishing it could save me from this. From what I’m feeling, what I’ve been through, what I’m about to do. I see my smiling face and wonder what I could’ve done to get that back. To feel hope again. I turn the photo over and find my list of reasons to stay alive. 

10.I deserve good things 9.I want to make a difference 8.Heavy rain and hot chocolate 7.What if they invent space travel after I’m gone? 6.Eating cheesecake at 3am  5. Sunny days 4. Looking for shooting stars 3. The neighborhood cats 2. Spite 1.Love

I remember all the jokes my friends made when I wrote down the first two. It’s true though, spite has gotten me so far in life but love feels like healing. It made me appreciate the small, beautiful wonders of the world all of which I’m leaving behind. Can I really leave all of this behind? I close my eyes and list my reasons like a prayer till my voice goes hoarse. 

Maybe waiting one day won’t hurt

The door to the bathroom slams shut. 

Whispers begin to fill the room, creating a cacophony of almost unbearable sound. Dropping the photo to cover my ears does nothing to drown out the voices, all of which are too quiet to hear more than a word or two.

“...protect…” 

“...chosen…”

“...chosen…”

“...chosen…”

“...find them...” 

The bathroom light blows out and I jump splashing water everywhere as a giant reflection appears in front of me. It looks like moving water. I think for a second then go to touch it, my hand completely passing through. 

Holy shit

Yanking my hand back I see my fingers tangled in a necklace with 6 gems, each radiating a different color. Why the hell is this so familiar? Before I can inspect anymore, the room begins to shake and the jewelry falls out of my hand into the tub. I grip the edge of the tub and sweep my legs inwards to catch the necklace and quickly put it on. 

The room goes still. 

What the hell just happened. I touch the center of my chest, smoothing my fingers over the chain. Rising from the tub, prior motives long forgotten, I towel off and find myself lying in my empty bedroom with my phone plugged into the wall.  

Search: Real Infinity Stones MCU

As I scroll through the results, mostly containing plastic versions of the stones for sale and Marvel movie ads, nothing resembles any sort of answer. 

I mean sure I’m off my rocker a little bit right now, but I know I didn’t just imagine that. Infinity Stones!? I’d heard rumors about Hydra being real, maybe even multiple realities – but this? How am I even holding it!?

BANG BANG BANG

The front door startles me and, as I get up to answer, my stomach tightens. Something doesn’t feel right.  As I tiptoe towards the door, the banging becomes louder and louder, until I’m in front of the peephole. No one. Suddenly glass shatters from my bedroom window and footsteps bound towards me. I rush to the kitchen, hoping to find something, but feel a slight pinch on my neck and darkness takes over.

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

The room I wake to is nothing like my apartment. Cement walls covered in cracks and dirt and grime, the strong smell of bleach and mold hangs in the air.  Head pounding, I can feel soreness in my arms and legs. My heavy eyes open to see that I’m strapped down to a chair, incapacitated. My shirt has been ripped open and a small tube has been hooked up to my chest, connecting to 3 giant machines placed around me that are filled with a blue liquid. 

“Finally, you’re awake.” 

Behind me, in the far right corner, sat a man in a long tattered white coat with a clipboard in his hands. He watches me through his broken glasses as I struggle against the restraints, careful to not move the tubes. 

“What are you doing to me?” I ask weakly.

“Only saving our asses, now please sit still. I can't get a proper reading on the stones when you move like that,” he replies, crossing the room and opening the door for another man. This one had on all black tactical gear, a gun fastened to his hip, and a black arm patch with a bright red skull and six tentacles. He stays close to the door and crosses his arms. 

“Who the hell are you? You’re not doing shit except keeping me hostage with the Hydra reject over there!”

“Actually, he was a top asset to Hydra in the days before Thanos.” White coat chuckles, “And think of our relationship more as that of Frankenstein and Monster.” 

My eyes go wide with fear. “What the hell are you doing to me!?” 

White Coat stands between two machines and flips a switch, sending me doubling over in pain. Blue liquid from the machines starts seeping through my tube. After a minute, he flips the switch again and begins asking questions,

“How’s the clarity of your mind right now?”

“Could you feel anything happening with the stones?”

“Are you noticing any hardening in your muscles?” 

This guy is insane

I huff leaning up, “Just please tell me what you’re doing to me, I don’t know why I have the stones or how to use them. If you want them so bad why haven’t you taken them?” 

“Trust me darling, we tried,” White Coat says, pointing to my chest. I look down in horror noticing a faint, oval shaped scar around the necklace. “Those stones don’t want to be taken.” 

Did they fucking cut me open? I’ll kill him I swear…wait-

“Why is it healed so much, I just got here?” 

“The stones healed you, of course. Can’t have their protector getting hurt, now can they?” He sounded bitter.

I raise an eyebrow and he steps around the machines with a small metal chair and clipboard and sits in front of me.

“This last test really messed with your memory, huh? The stones chose you as their protector.” 

It hit me like a train. The voices. Most were too quiet to even hear but I know they said this. They must have been trying to tell me, or warn me. But what does “find them” mean? Find who? There’s no way it’s these guys.  

“Chose me? Why would they have chosen me?”

Tactical Gear turns to me. “Trust me, sweetheart, we’ve been trying to figure that out too.”

“Oh and…you’ve been here a while my dear, about 6 months now?”

“6 months tomorrow, Doc.” Tactical Gear sports a grin as he speaks.

“W-why can’t I remember? Have I been asleep?”

Tactical Gear snickers, “You wish, sweetheart, we’ve spent a lot of quality time together. And your memory? That’s all Doc.”

“It’s truly the kindest thing we could do for you, this work doesn’t happen without some… side effects” 

Side effects!? “What kind of side effect warrants memory loss? What’s going on here!?” 

“Jesus Christ, Doc just tell them, it’s no fun fucking with them when they’re like this.” 

“I wanted to give them time, but … alright,” White Coat lets out a breath. “I assume you aren’t aware of the multiverse, yes?” 

“Like in Marvel movies?” 

He sighs, “This is much more complicated than that but yes, and similar to the movies, Thanos is also very real and very much on his way for those stones. He destroyed Hydra looking for them many years ago, and I have no doubt he senses their presence now.”

“My theory is that, combined with my version of the super soldier serum, the stones will react to your new strength and be our ticket out of here. You’ve been quite stubborn these past few months and have refused to willingly participate in my work so this,” he gestures to the restraints, “is our last resort.”

"You're seriously making me...what, like a super soldier? Like Captain America? I could literally die!" 

“ Do not worry my dear, you will be my greatest creation! You are going to lead Hydra into a new age across the timelines.”

“The only thing I’m going to lead is my foot up your ass, now let me go!”

White Coat only shakes his head before getting up and walking back around the machines. He looks as if he is going to mess with the machines again but decides against it, instead walking towards the door. 

“Take them back to their room, we’ll pick up tomorrow.” 

Tactical Gear pushes off the wall and unties my arm restraints. “Now don’t get feisty, wouldn’t wanna have to hurt you.” 

He smiles. 

Dick.

Feeling comes back to my legs as he takes the straps off and lifts me up bridal style out of the room. He walks down a long blue lit hallway, avoiding the stripped wires hanging from the ceiling. If I had the strength in my legs I’d run, but… where would I even go? I don’t know where I am or how far I am from civilization. The room I’m taken to is bland to say the least. Four more cracked cement walls, a chair, and a bed that Tactical Gear throws me unceremoniously on. He turns and walks out, locking the door behind him.

A sob escapes my mouth as I turn over and clutch my legs to my chest. None of this should have happened. I know what I should’ve done, and now I'm here. I pay no attention to the necklace as I run my fingers over the scar – it’s healed but will most likely never go away. A familiar feeling begins to rise. 

After everything I’ve been through, THIS is where I end up? These stones saved my life and now I’m stuck with fucking Dr. Jekyll and Hyde? No.Fucking.Way. I’m getting out of here even if it’s the last thing I do. 

This is how most nights go now. Wake up, a breakfast of toast and expired fruit, and then continuous torture. Like cattle being raised for slaughter, only I’d be the one doing the slaughtering eventually. I can feel what the serum is doing to me, I’ve bulked up to the point Tactical Gear has a hand on his gun whenever I’m in the room. It would be an ego boost if it wasn’t so damn terrifying, especially since the man looks like he’s itching to pull the trigger!

 It’s been 3 weeks and I haven’t even thought of using the stones. My captors are less than thrilled, but I know Marvel like the back of my hand and, if they think super soldier serum will trigger these stones, yeah right. I just need to buy enough time to figure out where I am and how to leave. They haven’t said anything about it, but I know that’s what comes next. Brainwashing. It’s the only way they’ll ever get me to use the stones for them. 

I can hear footsteps through the thick concrete as Tactical Gear approaches, a new perk of the serum. He opens the door and gestures to walk out, hand readily on his gun. I slip past him and make my way to the room — there aren’t any exit doors in the hallway so he lets me by. I learned that my first week. I take a seat and allow him to strap my arms and legs to the chair. He begins inserting the tube and I reflexively wince as he purposefully pushes it too hard. 

“I’m hoping this test will be our final and all 3 of us can continue my work somewhere else,” White Coat says, not looking up from his clipboard. 

“Wait- you mean this is it? What if it doesn’t work.” My heart races as I think of the consequences of not using these stones.

“ Well, you’ll finally be done with the serum today, so training should be next.”

Sure. “Training”. I knew it. 

Looking down again, I feel a wave of nausea come over me. I had to get out of here and fast. Should I use the stones? Are they even in my control? I close my eyes and begin pleading with them.

Please, please, take away my tube and get me out of here! 

I wait a moment before opening my eyes and seeing everything still as it was.

“Get ready, dear, try to concentrate on a portal out of here!” 

And away from you

As he begins flipping switches again, the blue liquid crawls back towards me, and I can’t help but continue to plead with the stones as pain shoots through me. 

Please get me out of here

Please get me out of here

Please get me out of here

Swoosh

A bright light blinds me as the left wall collapses in on itself and is replaced by a smokey blue portal. White coat cheers and begins fiddling with the machines again while Tactical Gear steps over to me and starts untying me from the chair. After unraveling all the restraints, he roughly yanks me up from my chair and pulls the tube from my side. I cringe, expecting pain but as I look where the tube is I already see a scar forming on my side. Another new perk of the serum I’m sure. 

 He turns back around to grab a duffle bag hidden from behind a machine and I know this is the only chance I’ll get to escape. I leap over two giant bundles of wires to get out of his reach and dive towards the portal. 

“Stop them!”

I can’t tell who’s yelling but it’s the least of my worries as I pass through the portal and crash onto cement. Scrambling up I turn to see White Coat and Tactical Gear bounding towards me. Running through what I now see is an alley, I turn the corner onto the sidewalk and immediately crash into someone.

“Oh my god, please you have to help! These guys are cha-”

My eyes look up to meet large white lenses with black rims sewn into a red and blue suit, an all too familiar sight. 

“Woah woah it’s okay! I’m Spider-man, I can help!”

[dgttwisted]

Christiane

art by @oriigirii​

name: maybe Christine >:)

age:???????

hight: 5.2

one of the queen of the fea’s many children her job among fairies is to heal an to nurture small animals however she has much more fun teasing an tricking humans into getting lost in the woods. an while fairies are known for doing things like this she takes up an notch doing that instead of doing her job any chance she got. it got to the point that even the queen had to step in to thin of a suitable punishment for her actions.

they proposed a planned engagement to one of the dragon fea which er kind of fea was terrified they were basically sentencing her to death. they brought her to the house in question an the dragon fea to step out was Matilda short hair an to tiny yet sharp horns sticking out. they were placed in a room together while their parents argued in the room over.

Christy “I’m not afraid of you!” she says her bells tinging every time she shakes

the child’s eyes lit up at that “your not?” she seemed happy to hear that “do you like humans?” Christy “yea there fun to mess with!”

“as friends!” Matilda asked

Christy was confused “why would a fea want to be friends with a human? it won’t last-” before she could finish he sentence Matilda grabbed her hand snuck out a window as the child led her to another child with one looked in awful shape in bed strapped to tubes with no hair this child didn’t have long she could tell that for sure an yet.

“look i brought you a new friend!”

the who was pale an even though it seemed like a struggle the child sat up  to greet them with a smile. that Child didn’t talk much it was Matilda doing all the talking Christiane sat there silently she wasn’t sure if she should say anything.

by the time they returned back both of there parents were waiting for them mad as can be Matilda was yanked away from Christine an dragged off.

-the engagement was called off for reasons unknown to Christiane at the time-

they didn’t see each other until serval years after that when she did see Matilda again they no longer lived with her parents but with Lilia an the prince of the thorns. 

one of her horns was gone when they were alone she has asked about it however in doing so she could visibly see her heart break as she answered the question.

“do you remember the child i took you to see when we first met? he was dying an in some of the books my parents made me read every day it said that fairy horn's are believed to have healing properties-”

“Matilda y-you didn’t!”

Matilda continued “i cut off my horn an gave it to them as a present hoping it would help....they died that night as far as i know they were berried with that horn-” Christiane was hugging Matilda tight while they weren’t crying she could tell her soul was “that’s awful....I’m so sorry Matilda”

while Christiane wasn’t not afraid of Malleus an Lilia she held nothing but affection for Matilda. bubbly as can be when they got to hang out together fly to places have picnics in the forest gender doesn’t mean much to a fairy to when she found out that Matilda was in fact a woman she still liked her all the same in fact even more so.

on one of her any visits a new face emerged in the mix of there odd family a beastfolk named Sherly. while she didn’t know all the details she knew that him an Matilda were friends.

Christiane flies above him always becuse if she were to stand she would be the shortest in the room. “i have known Matilda longer then you so i obviously her best friend!”

“i spend more time with her then you do” he retorted 

it goes on like that most times they are together with Matilda though Matilda has said on more then one occasion that she sees them both as her best friend they want to be titled as the best best friend.

-

Christiane doesn’t go to either school she’s a fairy after all she does visit both RSA an NRC sense Sherly an Matilda go to those schools that more then enough of a reason to go to cause some trouble. 

she flies an leans on there shoulders as they walk just to be a tad more annoying then usual. though Matilda doesn’t mind Sherly thinks it’s irritating they argue the most but Sherly isn’t above a good prank or two with Christiane.  

[lovelystoriesaj]

CHAPTER 4.

word count: 1036

"jesus christ." i mumble as i pull up to the house. making my way in, dressed as laurie strode with the gas mask from my bloody valentine.

"and who are you?" stu asks with a smile. i yank the mask off my face, letting the blonde streaks fall free. "seriously?"

"mhm. it was either this or michael myers, and i wanted to be more original." waving the mask around before slipping it back on. "i've got my shit in the car. tatum and sid will be here in a few."

"ok, i'll go get it. go find randy or something." he nods to my car before walking off. i walk over to randy who was already in the living room.

"guess who." i laugh, covering his eyes.

"lemme guess, laurie strode?" he jokes, grabbing my waist and pulling me into his chest.

"with a twist of hardy warden." he laughs loudly, pulling the mask off my face so he could plant a kiss on my lips.

"i wanna dance, let's dance!" i smile, getting into a rhythm he could copy.

we dance for a while until stu calls me into the kitchen with a beer funnel.

"oh hell yes!" i walk over, grabbing the tube, sticking it in my mouth, sucking down the alcohol as stu pours it into the funnel. "stu, why the fuck is that priss reporter here?" i notice the top story van and dewey's car outside.

"i don't know!" he drops the funnel, watching dewey and gale weathers talking outside.

"stuart macher, you are a total fucking dumbass! why the hell would you let the deputy and some annoying reporter in here!" i yell, walking into the living room.

"know what, it's not a biggie, let's go hang." we plop down onto the couch where randy was taking tally for the movie to watch.

"how come jamie lee curtis is in all of these movies?" sid mumbles, flipping through the tapes.

"because she's the scream queen." randy smiles.

"with a set of lungs like that, she should be!" stu remarks.

"tits. see?" tatum says.

the door opens, which redirects mine and stu's eyes to the deputy and reporter.

"i'm gonna get them to leave." he jumps over the back of the couch, almost tripping over his hugh hefner robe. "hey tate. grab another beer, would ya? there's more beer in the garage."

"what am i, the beer wench?" she hops up, and walks into the garage.

"i'm gonna run to the restroom." i mumble to sidney and randy before shooting up the stairs into stu's bedroom. i change my shoes, from heels to converse, before grabbing my other stuff and putting it in an easy access spot.

i walk back downstairs, grabbing randy's hand before dragging him into one of the guest rooms.

"what's got you all worked up?" he smiles.

"nothing. i'm just in a good mood."

"then jamie lee me already baby." i lean back into the mattress, pulling him into me.

MEANWHILE

tatum slips into the garage, clicking on the light while opening the garage door and shutting it again. she skips over to the fridge, pulling out five bottles.

a loud crash makes her whip around.

"jesus!"

a cat runs out of the garage through the dog flap.

"tatum, it's ok." she goes to open the door, but finds it locked. "shit." then the lights click off. she knocks on the door in an attempt to get one of the dimwits to let her back inside. "hey shitheads! hello?"

she opens the garage again, almost walking out when it stops and closes, turning around to be met with ghost face.

"is that you, randy?"

they shake their head no.

"cute. what movie is this from, i spit on your garage?" she jokes, walking over to the door. "lose the outfit, if sidney sees it, she'll flip."

they block the door, shaking their head no.

"oh! you wanna play psycho killer? can i be the helpless victim? okay, let's see, no, please don't kill me mr. ghost face, i wanna be in the sequel!" she tries to get around them, but gets stopped again. "cut casper! that's a wrap!"

they grab her, making the bottles fall from her arms.

"randy, what the hell are you doing?"

a knife appears in their hand before cutting her arm open. she starts backing up, grasping her arm tightly to stop the blood flow. she runs to the freezer, hitting them in the face before she runs to open the garage door, picking up some of the unbroken bottles to throw at the person.

she runs over to the dog flap, trying to crawl through when the garage door begins to open.

BACK TO MADDIE

i hop out of the bed, randy following in pursuit so we could meet back with the others.

"i'm gonna go grab something." i smile, kissing his cheek before walking up the stairs again. this time, i shove my pistol into my pants waistband. at this time, some people were leaving. i walk down the stairs as billy pops his head i to the door, scaring sidney. he shoots stu the look before looking back at sid.

"leave the girl alone, b!" i shoot a nerf bullet at his head that i found in stu's room.

"hey, that's mine!" stu whines. i toss him the toy gun once i get to the bottom of the stairs.

"oh, billy, hey."

"billy, hm. what are you doin' here?" stu says with a smile.

"i was hoping i could talk to sid alone." billy shoots me the look to go get ready, which i immediately take, and start up the stairs.

"you know, if tatum sees you here, she'll draw blood."

"i'll tell you what. why don't you go up to my parents room? you know, you guys can talk, whatever."

i fake gag from the top of the staircase, which the boys notice.

"subtlety, stu. you should look it up." billy shoots back.

"no, it's ok. we do need to talk." as he walks into the house, he nails stu right in the gut.

it's gonna be a long night.

[jtwritesstuff]

Turning Over a New Leaf

One of my monthly stories, this one was the prompt "playing in the leaves" ______________________________________________________________

Jonathan sighed as he finished raking, his leaf blower sitting nearby as he looked over his now mostly pristine yard, a soft smile falling over his face as he saw just how much work he did. The leaves had been covering every square inch of his yard and were now piled into large mounds near the road. He looked them over, his mind going back to a time he’d helped his dad similarly with the raking, though he remembered from that day after he was done he finished it by leaping into the pile and playing.

He shook his head a bit, chuckling softly at his childish antics and went to start cleaning up his tools. As he was cleaning he heard a sound he wasn’t expecting, it sounded like a whooshing, like someone sucking something slightly too big into a vacuum cleaner. He turned to the source, expecting to see a neighbor possibly using their leaf blower the wrong way but frowned upon seeing the most odd thing in his life.

He looked, seeing the leaf pile he’d just raked up…glowing, an odd blueish purple glow coming from the inside of the leaves. He slowly walked over, peering into the leaves and his jaw dropped open as he saw what looked to be a never ending tunnel inside, seemingly made of colors and what looked to be almost warped mirrored views. He shook his head a bit “No…way this is real…I must’ve like…hit my head or something…” He started to pinch himself, checking to see if he was awake. He winced at each pinch and frowned, definitely not a dream. He slowly kneeled down, gently putting his hand into the tunnel and as he did he felt his arm getting pulled in, like when you put your hand just a bit too close to the end of a vacuum tube. He winced as he tried to pull himself back, but it felt like the suction got stronger the more he pulled and soon his whole arm and shoulder was pulled into the odd hole.

Jonathan grabbed the edge of the hole and kept trying to pull himself out, but felt the suction get stronger, the wind whipping past his ears now as his head and neck were also in. The suction was forceful but not painful as it kept trying to pull him in and as he tried to adjust his other hand he felt it slip into the hole and felt his whole body yanked into it, sending him tumbling into the colors.

Looking around him he saw the menagerie of colors swirling and kaleidoscoping around him as he fell deeper and deeper. As he gazed around in awe he began to realize something, those mirrored pictures around him were more than just pictures…they were moving. They were moving and he saw things only he himself would know, his first kiss, his first day of high school, his middle school dances, his very life was flashing before his eyes as he watched his memories fly by, but not be forgotten as they passed. 

He tumbled through his middle school and grade school years, not even noticing his body changing with each memory that passed until he felt the falling slowing, the colors evening out to a baby blue as he tumbled past a memory from his kindergarten christmas party and then he felt the suction all stop and colors seemed to suddenly vanish as he fell with an oof and a soft crinkling crunch beneath him.

He began to look around and felt…confused as he saw not the colors, but leaves all around him. He blinked and slowly sat up, looking around as he saw a sight he’d not seen in nearly fifteen years, there sat his childhood home, from before his parents moved at the beginning of highschool, and all around him, raked up and piled were leaves. He saw his dad still working on raking, looking over and giving a soft smile at him before chuckling and shaking his head.

Jonathan laid there, stunned at the sight before him as his dad raked the leaves closer, a cheeky smile on his face Jonathan knew all too well. His dad stopped just before him “Alright Jonny, move or you’re gettin covered.” Jonathan felt a small tingle and shiver run through him as he heard his childhood nickname and smiled a bit, feeling a childish giggle rise out of him as his dad shook his head again. “Alright bud, guess I’ll have to tell mom to only make two plates of bangers and mash, since I lost ya in the leaves.” His dad shrugged a bit before starting to cover Jonathan.

Jonathan giggled more and squirmed, flailing the leaves off of him as they covered him, shouting out a  “Nooo!” before going to get up. He wasn’t gonna miss mom’s home cooking for anything! His dad just chuckled more and raked the rest of the leaves up to where Jonny was just laying as Jonathan ran to the front door, glancing back a bit at the leaf pile.

Part of him wondered if a portal back would open soon…letting him go back to his life and keep going on with what he’d worked towards so far. He frowned a bit, thinking about how stressful life was right now. Between work and school he barely had time to even call his parents, let alone relax. He stood for a few seconds more, a look of concentration and thought on his face before he heard his mom call from inside “Boys! Food!” 

He perked up hearing that, thinking one last time about diving back in and heading back before shaking his head and running in, slipping his shoes off as he smelt the wonderful aroma of his mom’s cooking. He felt a smile creep across his face and his whole body seemed to relax as he saw the late 90s living room, his N64 currently set up with a paused Banjo Kazooie on it and gave a soft nod, this is what he wanted, and this is where he was staying…at least, for now.

He ran to the bathroom to wash his hands, oblivious to the portal in the leaves opening and closing within seconds, whatever creating it knowing that it’d picked the right person…and there were no regrets to be had from them. As it closed Jonny walked into the kitchen, smiling happily at his mom and climbing into the booster seat before starting to eat, happy that whoever or whatever had done this…picked him.

“How was school sweetheart?” Jonny’s mom smiled at him. He looked up at her from his meal, thinking for a moment. As the question enters his mind, the events of that day start coming back to Johnny with a near crystal clarity that he wasn’t expecting. It was a standard day in kindergarten for Jonny, honestly nothing really remarkable other than it being a free day in gym. “Uhm, id was okay” Jonny says, a childish lisp escaping his mouth, catching him off guard a bit. His mom smiled “That’s good, glad you had fun”. 

Jonny can’t help but smile big and go back to digging into his mom’s cooking. Could this really be happening? At this point Jonny was just praying that this was at the very least a dream he wouldn’t be waking up from for a long time. As dinner went on, Jonny continued to eat slowly, looking around the house a bit and taking in the scenery while he had the chance. The walls are lined with photos of the three of them and he noticed there was his first school photo up as well. Scenes that started as distant memories and now feel like they only just happened like their summer trip to the beach and his most recent birthday at Chuck E Cheese’s. 

After more searching, the TV in the living room catches his eye. He remembers spending so much of his time after school sitting in front of it either watching cartoons or playing video games, and now… could he really just go back to it all? He thought quietly about what he was leaving behind, his somewhat boring job…his tiring day in and day out…it might be honestly easier to leave it than he thought. He went to take another bite only to feel his fork tink against his plate, looking down he noticed his plate was empty, causing a soft smile as he looked back to the video game still paused on the TV.

“Umm… could I be excused?” Jonny managed to squeak out. His dad smiled softly

 “Of course bud, go have fun before it’s time for bed. Jonny nodded, quickly mumbling out a “‘kay!” as he slid himself from his chair and rushed to the living room, plopping down in front of the TV and grabbing his controller and unpausing the game. The music from Spiral Mountain almost completely envelops Jonny, like a warm blanket. He couldn’t help but smile as he played, the controls and layout all coming back to him like muscle memory as he got right into the groove of things. He played, getting sucked into the world again, much like he did as a child and didn’t realize how fast time really flew when you’re having fun.

It was the tap on his back from his mother that shook him out of his almost hypnotic trance with the TV. Looking back she smiled down at him softly “Honey, you need to go brush your teeth and get ready for bed.” Jonny groaned “But moooommy!” She just smiled “No buts, it’s a school night, you can play your game tomorrow after school.” He let a soft whine out before slowly standing, shuffling towards the bathroom as his mother turned off his system behind him.

He shuffled in, slowly stepping onto the stool he needed to be able to see himself in the mirror and started to put water and then toothpaste on his brush. He started to brush his teeth and stared at himself in the mirror, barely not a toddler, freshly starting school staring back at him. He just stared, thinking about how he was actually here, actually five again. He spit into the sink and gargled some water before spitting that out as well before hopping down, wiping his face and walking to his room. His eyes widened upon walking into a room he hadn’t seen in over a decade.

He saw a room covered in toys, pokemon posters on the walls with a race car bed in the corner. He slowly shuffled about, seeing beanie babies on plastic chains and his gameboy color sitting on his bed with the light attachment added on so he could play at night. He then blushed as he looked beside his bed and noticed pull ups, something he knew was for his…night time accidents. He slowly undressed and looked at them, sighing as he knew he couldn’t trust his kinder bladder.

He gently slid one out of the package and up his legs, it holding snuggly around his waist as he started to get dressed into his pokemon PJs with a bit of a waddle now. He slowly made his way to his bed, blushing as he crawled in with a slight crinkle and felt the slightly rough sheets with dragon tales prints all over them. He laid down as his mommy came in, tucking him gently in and smiling softly as she kissed his forehead “I love you honey…so much.” Jonny just smiled up “Love you too mommy…”

She just smiled and quietly stepped out, turning on his night light and turning off his main light before just smiling back at him a bit and heading out. Jonny laid in the soft glow of his night light, looking about the room and yawning softly as he felt his body succumbing to the gentle drifts of a kindergartener's sleep. His eyes started to flutter shut as he slowly fell asleep, curling up and smiling, thinking about what excitement tomorrow may hold for his newly kindergartened form.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Sweet Escape

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: After Peter rescues you from the Red Room, you try to adjust to a normal life as an ex-widow. Luckily,  you have Peter and Natasha to help you 

Masterlist

“You know the mission, yes?” Yelena asked as she zipped up her vest.

“Yes.” Peter nodded. “Find the widows and give them the magic cheeto dust that breaks them out of their trance.”

“Why is he here again? He seems dumb and useless, no?” Yelena asked her sister.

“I can hear you, but…” Peter trailed off and shrugged.

“He’s here because we needed an extra set of hands set of hands.” Natasha explained. “And he’s the only one small enough to fit in the helicopter.”

“Again, I can totally hear you guys.” Peter chimed in.

“Do not mess up this mission, spider boy.” Yelena warned him. “These girls need us.”

“I won’t.” Peter said quietly.

“Yelena and I are gonna start in the basement. Can you take the top floor?” Natasha asked Peter.

“Sure. And then I just drug all the girls I see?” He asked as he pulled his mask on.

“Yeah.” Natasha smiled weakly. “Do that.”

“Cool. Bye guys.” Peter waved before skipping away, arms swinging like a child.

“He just skipped away.” Yelena pointed out. “Did you see that? He skip like little lamb.”

“I saw.” Natasha sighed.

“He’s the best you could do? He acts like baby. Stupid and useless baby.” Yelena shook her head as they walked into the building. Elsewhere, Peter was carefully making his way down the hallway with the antidote ready to go. He heard footsteps behind him and whipped just as you disappeared behind a wall.

“Stop right there. I have a small tube and I’m not afraid to use it.” He shouted as he made his way down the hallway. He sensed you about to attack and caught your fist as you tried to punch him. You looked between him and your caught fist in slight disbelief before yanking your hand away.

“Woah. You’re kinda pretty.” Peter realized. “In an evil villain kinda way.”

Since he was caught off guard, you kicked him in the chest and sent him stumbling back.

“I’m sorry. I deserved that.” He held up his hands. “Can we start over?”

You didn’t say anything but kept your fists raised in fighting position. Peter took that as an opportunity to start again.

“Hi. My name is Peter.” Peter smiled and held out his hand. Your face twisted in anger as you grabbed his hand.

“Wow. You have a firm hand shake.” Peter kept his smile as he winced in pain. You squeezed harder and his knees started to buckle.

“I think you just broke my fingers.” He wheezed. You spun him around and pinned him against the wall in one swift move, making his back crack as you pressed your knee against his spine.

“That felt kinda good actually.” He said with his face smushed against the wall. You pushed harder and he let out a groan.

“That felt less good.” He croaked. You grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him on the ground before stepping on his chest.

“Does this count as third base?” Peter asked as he held your ankle. “Because I haven’t been doing very well in the lady department and I feel as though I’m falling behind my peers.”

You dropped down on him and straddled his hips as you held a small knife to his throat.

“At least buy me dinner first.” He laughed, making you press the knife harder.

“Wait, before you slit my throat. Sniff this.” Peter said as he fished the serum out of his pocket.

“What the hell did you just say to me?” You sneered and leaned down towards his face. Peter quickly put the vile under your nose

“Sniff.” He said in a singsongy voice. “Go on. Inhale.”

“Phil! What are you doing?” Yelena asked as she came into the hallway.

“It’s Peter.” He whined. “I can’t get her to snort the powder.”

“You just have to break it, you bison. Who said anything about sniff?” Yelena scoffed and took the vile from him.

“Oh.” Peter blinked as Yelena broke the vile in front of your face. You got off of Peter as you coughed and fanned it away from your face.

“What the hell was that?” You asked as you came to your senses.

“You, bug boy, come here.” Yelena beckoned Peter with her finger. “Explain to her what happened. I have more widows to help.”

“Would it kill you to say please?” Peter whined. Yelena stared at him for a long time before taking a tiny knife out of her ponytail.

“Would it kill you to talk back to me again?” She asked as she pointed the knife at Peter. “Yes. It would. Because I will kill you. Understand?”

“Understand.” Peter mumbled sheepishly. He walked back over to you and bent down beside you.

“What’s happening?” You asked. “Where am I?”

“You’re okay. You’re safe.” Peter assured you. “My name is Spider Peter. I mean, man.”

“Your name is man?” You asked and scooted away from him.

“No. It’s Peter. Look.” He quickly pulled his mask off and watched you visibly relax.

“I’m just like you, see?” He said softly. Your hand shook as you slowly reached out to touch his face. He leaned into your palm and felt his skin burn against your hand.

“What happened to me?” You asked quietly.

“I’ll explain everything.” Peter assured you.

“No he won’t.” Yelena interrupted, making you both jump apart. He won’t explain a thing. He’s just stupid boy. He knows nothing. Come with me. I explain.”

You took the hand Yelena was holding out to you and let her pull you off the ground. Peter noticed that you were a lot less tense around another woman, so he followed behind the two of you like a puppy dog.

“My name is Yelena. This is my sister Natasha.” Yelena wrapped her arm around your shoulders and nodded towards Natasha. You looked at them both with wide eyes, unsure of what to say now that you had control of you own mind.

“Come with us.” Natasha took your free hand. “We’re gonna take you home.”

~

“Good morning!” Peter greeted as you came into the kitchen the next day. You jumped and launched a fork at his head, which he expertly dodged. He looked at you in surprise and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand.

“Sorry!” You gasped. “I didn’t know who you were.”

“It’s cool. I’m totally awake now so I don’t need to force myself to drink coffee.” Peter smiled and set his cup on the table.

“I’ll go.” You offered and went to stand up.

“You don’t have to leave.” Peter stopped you. “You can totally stay. I’d prefer it actually. I hate eating alone.”

You nodded curtly and sat back down. He noticed you looking at his cup with curiosity.

“Did you want coffee?” He offered.

“I don’t drink that.” You said stiffly as you continued to stare at his cup.

“Have you ever had it before?” He asked.

“No.” You said quietly. “We weren’t allowed.”

“Try it.” He shrugged. “I think you won’t like it but will drink it anyway because adults do and eventually it’ll grow on you.”

You looked at him as if to ask permission, and he gave a gentle nod. You carefully took the cup and took a sip.

“That’s disgusting.” You grimaced and quickly put it down. Peter grabbed some milk from the refrigerator and poured it into the mug. He added a teaspoon of sugar and stirred it before pushing the cup back towards you.

“Yes, is it disgusting.” He agreed. “But try it now.”

You looked at Peter skeptically and took another sip.

“Still disgusting, right?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Ice coffee is a lot better in my opinion. It’s easier to get down.” Peter said as he sat across from you. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No. I was waiting for further instruction.”

“Oh.” Peter blinked in surprise. “You don’t have to do that. You can do whatever you want around here. Just don’t put a fork in the garbage disposal. Learned that the hard way.”

“Oh. Okay. Can I eat that?” You asked and pointed to an apple on the table.

“That’s all you want?” He asked. “The refrigerator is full of food. I could make you something.”

“Why are you being nice to me?” You asked skeptically as Peter went over to the refrigerator.

“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” He laughed.

“Because I’m not nice.” You said, almost sounding apologetic. “I just threw a fork at your head.”

“That’s not your fault.” Peter shrugged. You smiled a little but quickly set your face back to neutral. You waited at the table and soon, he put a plate of pancakes in front of you.

“This is my specialty.” Peter explained. “I hope you like chocolate chips.”

“What’s this?” You asked him as he took a seat beside you.

“Pancakes. You’ve had them before, right?”

“I think so. I think my assigned family made them for me when I was 5.” You said as you poked them with a fork. Peter felt guilty as he realized how many simple pleasures you’d been deprived of. He grabbed the butter, slathered it on the pancakes, and cut them into pieces.

“This is syrup. It makes it taste better.” He explained as he poured some syrup on your plate. You looked at him as if asking for permission again, and he nodded. When you took a bite, a wide smile crossed you face.

“You like it?” Peter asked with a smile.

“Very much.” You nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir.” Peter chuckled. “Just “Peter” is fine.”

“I’m sorry. General Dreykov said we had to address all men that way.”

“Well you don’t have to do that anymore.” Peter told you. “Besides, I’m barely a man.”

“Oh good. You’re up. We have a lot of paperwork to go over.” Natasha walked into the the kitchen and slid a packet of papers in front of you.

“Paperwork for what?“ Peter asked as he peered over your shoulder. “Midtown Tech admissions? Why does she need that?”

“Because Y/n needs an education.” Natasha explained. “A real one. Not the bullshit curriculum they teach you in the Re-“

“Please don’t say it.” You interrupted in a sharp whisper. Peter and Natasha looked at you before exchanging a look.

“I’m sorry.” You said after a beat of silence. “I spoke out of turn.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Natasha assured you. “But you do have to go to school.”

“Thank you for trying, but I can’t go to a real school. I’m not ready. I’ll act all weird and robotic. They’ll know I’m a freak.”

“You’re not a freak. You’re a smart young girl who is being given an opportunity to get an education at one of the top schools in the state.” Natasha said as she took your hands.

“I don’t know.” You frowned. “I appreciate the opportunity miss Romanoff, but I think I should be home schooled. I shouldn’t be around people.”

“You have been “homeschooled” your entire life.” Natasha sighed. “You need to go to a real school with real professors and real students. And it’s not like you’ll be alone. Peter goes there, right? He can show you around.”

“Yeah.” Peter jumped in. “It’s not that bad.”

“See?” Natasha gestured to Peter. “You have a friend already.”

“Okay.” You said sheepishly. “What’s that form for? More school stuff?”

Natasha saw what form you were pointing at and quickly pulled it away. She turned it over and gave you a quick smile.

“Nothing. It’s not important. Just something I was looking at.” She said and swiftly left the room. Once she was out of the kitchen, she looked down at the adoption form in her hand and sighed.

On the day before you first day of school, you found yourself standing in front of your empty closet with a worried frown. You left your room and went to Peter’s before knocking softly on his doorframe.

“Who is it?“ He asked before looking up at you.

“Am I allowed to come in?” You asked for permission, a habit of yours.

“Of course.” Peter smiled softly. “Come in. Did you need something?”

“Yes. What do people wear at your school? Natasha and Yelena gave me some of their old clothes but I don’t know if I should wear them. I don’t want to stand out anymore than I have to.”

“Can I see what you’re working with?” Peter chuckled, feeling a pinch of guilt for how worried you were. You nodded and led him out the door and back to your room.

“Wow. It’s so clean in here.” Peter laughed in surprise when he walked into your room for the first time. It was free of dust and personal belongings, looking as if no one lived there at all.

“Yes. We have to keep our rooms clean at all times. No mess.” You said as if you were reciting something, making Peter frown.

“It’s okay if you make a mess here.” Peter assured you. “You can’t even see my floor most days because of how many clothes I leave lying around. Seriously, you could do surgery in here. Where do you keep all your things?”

“I don’t have things.” You replied, immediately feeling embarrassed.

“That’s okay.” Peter said quickly. “Me and you can hit up a Target this weekend and fill your room with all sorts of useless clutter.”

“Okay.” You smiled at the offer despite not knowing what Target was. Peter’s attention was draw to your closet, which had three plain black t shirts and a green vest hanging in it.

“Wow. I have never seen so many zippers.” He said and touched the vest.

“Natasha leant it to me. But the shirts are mine. I brought them from, um…” You trailed off, not necessarily wanting to call the Red room “home”.

“This is not gonna keep you warm.” Peter tried to change the subject when he noticed your expression.

“It’s not really my style either.”

“What is your style?”

“I guess I don’t have one yet. We were only allowed to wear the outfits they gave to us.” You said, quieting down at the end as you looked down at your plain back shirt.

“Come back to my room. I think I have some stuff you can borrow.” Peter offered as he gave you a warm smile. You returned the smile and followed him back to his bedroom.

“This should fit you. It’s from before I had my growth spurt.” Peter explained as he handed you a long sleeved rugby polo.

“You already had your growth spurt?” You teased as you took the shirt from him.

“Shut up.” He laughed at your unexpected joke.

“I’m sorry.” Your smile fell. “It won’t happen again.”

“No no no! It’s okay.” Peter quickly assured you. “You can make fun of me all you want. We’re friends now. Friends make fun of each other.”

“Oh. Okay. Then, um , f-fuck you. Bitch.”

“Amazing.” Peter praised you. “Fantastic. You’re a natural.”

“Do you really mean that?” You asked quietly. “Are we really friends?”

“Of course we are.”

“Okay. Good.” You smiled shyly. “I’ve always wanted a friend.”

~

“Hi. Can I come in?“ Nat asked as she knocked on your door the next morning.

“Hi Nat. Come in.” You smiled at her from your seat in front of your vanity.

“Um, this is stupid, but I had an idea. I thought maybe I could do your hair since it’s your first day of school?” She offered. “Only if you want me to, though. No pressure.”

“I would love that.” You smiled softly. “Thank you.”

She smiled in relief and turned to it chair around to face the mirror. She began to braid your hair the way she wore hers, a habit her fingers naturally started on.

“So it seems like you and Peter have gotten pretty close.” She said as she looked at you in the mirror.

“Peter is nice.” You sighed happily. “I’ve never met a man like him. He’s kind. And funny.”

Natasha knew what you meant and kept her eyes down, not wanting you to see the sadness in them. She would’ve loved a friend like Peter when she was healing from the Red Room, so it made her happy to see you have that.

“He’s a good kid.” She nodded. “You should keep him around.”

“I will. I like him a lot.”

“There.” She said when she finished. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Nat.” You admired the braid in the mirror. “It looks great. It looks just like yours.”

“Good luck today. You’ll do great.” She squeezed your shoulders, encouraging you the way a mother would.

“I hope so. I hope they like me.” You sighed as you stood up.

“They will. Oh, I almost forgot.” Nat left the room and came back with a small paper sack.

“What’s this?” You wondered.

“I packed you lunch. It’s silly but-“

“I love it.” You cut her off. “Thank you.”

She smiled shyly before pulling you into a hug. You hugged her back and rested your head on her shoulder as you tried to think of the last time you had been held.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You whispered.

“Of course.”

You managed to get through the first few classes without too much trouble. People ignored you for the most part, which you made sure of by never opening your mouth. At lunchtime, you sat alone at a table and unpacked the lunch Natasha made you. Just as you were admiring the handwritten note she had snuck in there, someone approached you.

“Hey. I haven’t seen you before. Are you new?” Flash asked as he slid into the vacant seat beside you.

“Yes, sir.” You replied timidly.

“Sir?” He smirked. “I like you already.”

“Leave her alone Flash. She’s with me.” Peter said as he sat on the other side of you. He noticed the way your leg was bouncing and put his hand on your knee to calm you down.

“Relax, Penis Parker. Didn’t the orphanage teach you that sharing is caring?” Flash scoffed and wrapped and arm around you.

“You’re in my personal space.” You told him as you instantly tensed up.

“Don’t I know it, baby doll.” He cupped your chin. “What’s say you and me go out later and get some raviolis? I’ll pick you up in the Flash-mobile and give you the ride of your life. Then once we’re full of raviolis and authentic Italian meat sauce, I could take you home to the Flash-pad and give you the second ride of your life. What do you think?”

“I think I said you were in my personal space.” You repeated, angrily this time.

“Your space, my space.” Flash shrugged. “Who’s keeping track?”

You grabbed his arm and twisted it before flipping him over your shoulder. He landed on the ground with a wheeze as you stood over him.

“I am.” You said firmly. “Do not touch me again.”

You repacked your lunch and picked it up before grabbing Peter’s hand with your free hand.

“And his name is Peter.” You said as you stepped directly on Flash’s chest to walk over him. You led Peter out of the cafeteria by the hand as the entire student body stared at you. You wanted to cry, but you wouldn’t dare.

That night, Peter found you in the gym punching a heavy bag. You weren’t wearing any sort of protection on your hands and he was seeing sand fly out from how hard you were hitting it, so he stepped into the room. You felt his presence and whipped around, throwing a weight directly at his head.

“Woah.” Peter chuckled and caught the weight with ease.

“I’m sorry.” You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand.

“It’s my fault. I should probably start announcing myself when I enter a room.”

You slowly withdrew your hand, noticing the way Peter was staring at your bloody knuckles. You looked at them in embarrassment before hiding them away.

“Looks like you busted your hand pretty badly.” Peter said quietly.

“It didn’t used to hurt like this.” You admitted. “I didn’t really feel any pain when I was…”

“A widow?” He asked when you trailed off.

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I beat up your friend today. That was exactly the kind of thing I was trying not to do today.”

“Flash is not my friend. And you do not have to be sorry. He deserved that.”

You gave him an appreciative smile and sat down on a bench near the door. Peter sat beside you as a comfortable silence settled between you.

“I don’t like how quick I am to anger.” Your voice cracked as you looked at your knuckles. “I wasn’t always like this. But I don’t remember who I was enough to get her back. I don’t know who I am now. But I know I don’t like me very much.”

“Hey. You don’t have to be upset.” Peter put his hand on your knee. “It’s not your fault that you’re like this. You’re free now. You can be anything you want to be.”

“It’s too late for me.” You shook your head. “I’m too old to learn better. Fighting, war, and anger. That’s all I know. I don’t know how to be warm and kind. I’m not like you. I’m not…soft.”

“You can learn to be soft. I think you already are. Do you even like boxing?”

“No.” You admitted. “I don’t know what else to do with myself. This is all I know.”

“The Red-“ Peter began but stopped himself when you looked up in fear.

“That place sounds awful.” He corrected himself. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t all bad.” You shrugged. “When we were younger, they put us in dance classes. I always liked that. I liked to do ballet.”

“Do you remember any moves?”

“Probably not. Plus, I don’t have any of the space of equipment.”

“Come with me.” Peter took your hand as an idea formed in his head. He led you a few rooms down to the ballet studio.

“Tony installed this for Nat a few years ago.” Peter explained when he turned on the light. You stepped into the room in total awe as you looked in the huge mirror. You ran your fingers along the balance beam, feeling all the routines you had learned in your youth come back to you.

“Now you have all the space you need. Do you think you could show me a few moves?” Peter asked you.

“I would, but I don’t have any shoes.”

“Check this out.” Peter smirked and walked over to the armoire in the room. When he opened it, you saw ballet slippers in different sizes and different colors.

“They’re beautiful.” You gasped and touched a pair. “How come they’ve never been worn?”

“Tony stocked this place in case anyone else wanted to do ballet.” Peter shrugged. “Black or pink?”

“Pink.” You decided. “I’ve had enough of black. That’s all they let us wear in the Red Room.”

“Hey.” Peter smiled proudly. “You said it.”

“Yeah. I did.” You realized. “Talking about it made it feel less scary.”

“Here. Show me what you got.” Peter grinned and handed you a pair of shoes. You gave him a shy smile before slipping into them. You tried to go one pointe, but immediately fell. Peter watched as you continued to try and eventually, you stayed on your toes. Once you gained your balance, you began to dance around the room. You hummed softly as yoh twirled and leapt around. There was no music, but watching you made an entire symphony play in Peter’s head. You bowed when you were done and looked up when Peter started clapping.

“That was incredible.” He praised you. “Why am I crying?”

“That’s what dance does. It moves you.”

“Could you show me some moves? I’ve always wanted to know how to dance in case I’m ever thrown into a dance circle.” Peter asked as he got off the floor.

“Okay.” You smiled shyly. “Do you want to learn ballet?”

“Actually, could you teach me how to ballroom dance?” Peter requested.

“Oh. Okay.” Your smile widened as you stepped closer to Peter.

“I put my hands here. And you put your hands here.” You explained as you rested his hand on your waist while putting yours on his shoulders. Your other hands met in an outstretched position, both of your faces heating up from the contact. Peter squeezed your waist a little and you immediately tensed up.

“Are you okay?” He asked in a worry.

“Yeah. Sorry. I just got a bad flashback.”

“I can take my hands off.”

“No, it’s okay.” You shook your head. “It’s just, no one’s ever touched me without the intention to hurt me before.”

“No one’s ever gonna hurt you again. I won’t let them.” Peter said as he stepped closer to you. You looked him in his eyes and felt yourself believe him.

“Keep your eyes right there.” Your voice grew in confidence as you resumed your positions. “Never drop my gaze. It’s more romantic that way.”

“Okay.” Peter smiled shyly as you began to move.

“Follow my lead. Step forward when I step back.” You explained as you began to lead him in the dance. He picked it up very quickly, making you think he actually knew how to do it. He even added his own flourish by spinning you around and dipping you. When he brought you back up, your eyes lingered on his lips.

“Has anyone ever kissed you?” Peter asked softly.

“No.”

“Would you like to be kissed?” He asked, a smile on his lips this time.

“Yes.”

Peter took his hands off your waist and pulled you into a kiss. You weren’t used to being touched in such a gentle way, and the emotion behind his kiss was enough to make you want to cry. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him as close as possible, never wanting the moment to end.

You settled into a routines around the compound in the following weeks. Most of your time was spent with Peter, studying together or laying in his bed. He showed you all the things you had never experienced before, taking you on dates and showing you around the city. When he was on patrol, you’d stay up and talk with Natasha over a cup of tea. You grew to be more comfortable around the team and slowly dropped all the habits you’d gotten from the Red Room. One day, you walked into the kitchen to find everyone standing around with balloons.

“What’s all this?“ You wondered.

“Happy birthday!” Everyone in the room cheered.

“For me?” You looked at Peter in confusion.

“Yeah.” Natasha smiled. “It’s your birthday.”

“It is?”

“That’s what it said in your file.” Natasha’s smile faded. “Did you not know your birthday?”

“No. I’ve never celebrated it before.”

An awkward silence settled in the room as the vibe went from celebrating to pity. You gulped and looked down, feeling ashamed for not having known your own birthday.

“We can celebrate now.” Peter spoke up to break the silence. “Come on. It’s tradition to smear your name with a spoon.”

Peter held you from behind and guided your hands as you smeared the frosting that spelled your name. You giggled as he wiped some frosting on your face before kissing it off.

“Disgusting.” Yelena rolled her eyes. “I am going to barf all over cake. Is that what you want? Barf cake?”

“No, Yelena. No one wants that.” Peter said as he sat beside you. Natasha lit the candles and everyone looked at you.

“What do I do?” You quietly asked Peter.

“You make a wish and then blow the candles out.” He whispered, trying not to let you see how much it hurt him that you’d never experienced a birthday before.

“I don’t know what to wish for.”

“Anything you want.” Peter said before kissing your cheek. You silently wished for something before blowing out the candles. Peter held your hair back for you and clapped when you were done. After eating cake, everyone gave you their presents. Natasha was the last to go, handing you a Manila envelope with a bright pink bow. You looked at her curiously before pulling the contents out of the folder.

“Adoption papers?”

“Yeah. It was just an idea I’ve been kicking around. I’ve always wanted kids but they took away my ability. And I know you’ve mentioned missing your mother figure. I thought that maybe, if you were okay with this, I could adopt you? And we could be a little family.”

“Really?” A smile tugged at your lips.

“Only if you want.” She quickly prefaced. “You totally don’t have to sign the papers. It was just an idea. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t have even-“

“Peter, can you please get me a pen?” You asked your boyfriend. Peter shot a web at a nearby pen and pulled it over. Natasha watched with happy tears in her eyes as you signed the adoption papers. Your eyes flicked to your birthday cake and you let out a little laugh.

“What are you laughing about?“ Peter asked ask he wrapped an arm around you.

“Nothing. I’m just really happy.” You told him. “I didn’t know they worked that fast.”

“What works fast?” He wondered.

“Birthday wishes.“ You smiled. “I wished for a family and it already came true.”

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[jamesbuchananxsteviegrant]

Even When She Had Noone | Brother!Bucky x Sister!Reader (Smut, mild Angst, mild Fluff)

Category: Smut, mild Angst, mild Fluff (Mandatory) Age: 18+ Trigger Warnings: Incest, sex pollen, dub-con, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), intercourse Ship: Brother!Bucky x Sister!Reader Summary: It was a simple in-and-out mission, but she ingests something that might kill her, the cure being something a little more than simple Request: N/A Contains Spoilers for: N/A Word Count: 6.3k

This work is absolutely fictional and I am not gonna tolerate hate on it. If you're not interested then just don't read. <3

---

Even when she had no-one, she had Bucky.

And even when he had no-one, he had (Y/N).

Even when the whole Universe was against them, they still had each other.

HYDRA didn’t even separate them. They were too powerful together to do that.

Let alone the fact that Bucky would kill anyone who dared try to take his little sister away from him.

Skip to modern-day. Nothing is different. Not really.

They’re still inseparable, but they’re now trying to save the Universe instead of trying to destroy it for the likes of HYDRA.

“How’s it looking, baby doll?” Bucky asks down the comms as he continues his path down the South of the building they’re infiltrating.

“Full of people trying to piss me the fuck off.” (Y/N)’s sarcastic tone prompts the soldier to chuckle as he shoots the enemies in his way.

“Language, sweetheart.”

“You trying to push my buttons or what, Barnes?”

He simply grins and shakes his head, continuing to head toward the vault that he and his sister are hoping to remove a number of substances from.

“Nice hair.” The soldier comments as they meet up in the centre of the huge building. She reckons it’s an old hospital.

“James, do you want me to kill you or what? You could’ve just asked if you were that desperate.” (Y/N) asks, quirking a brow as she sets up some small bombs on the lock of the vault door.

“Mm, perhaps another time, we’re a bit busy right now, no?”

Another roll of her eyes.

This is the usual banter between the two siblings who have been through more than enough together.

“Keep an eye out whilst I sort out these vials, will you?” She asks as they get through, (Y/N) mentally counting up how many there are, some holding a pale blue liquid, others a dark green, a couple with more of a pinkish tinge.

“Yes, ma’am.” He mock-salutes before scouting the hallways around the huge metal box in the wall.

“Good boy.”

The briefcase she has to hold the vials is already heavy, so she’s not looking forward to when it’s full. With quick, nimble fingers, (Y/N) quickly kneels down and migrates the glass tubes into the sponge-insulated case, occasionally glancing toward the door when she hears gunfire.

“You still alive, Buck?”

“Unfortunately for you, sugar.”

She breathes out a laugh at her brother’s humour before continuing to grab the last few dozen.

She’s not entirely sure how she didn’t notice the sneaky bastard walk up behind her but she’s fast-acting nonetheless.

The man yanks on her ponytail which prompts her grunt before she’s grabbing her knife from her thigh holster and reaching behind her, the blade piercing straight through the side of the man’s leg. Another hesitation from him for her to pull back from his hold and jump to her feet, spinning around and spinning the blade between her fingers.

“You little bitch.”

“Say it again: turns me on.” She remarks, smirking and quirking a brow.

She doesn’t expect the man’s own expression to contort into an entertained grin at the sarcastic response.

He quickly darts forward, shoving her backwards against the metal shelving that holds some more of the vials she’s yet to pack up and take away. They rattle, the sound of small amounts of glass shattering heard from above her, a few of the tubes breaking, making the woman’s brows furrow.

“Can you not damage the goods I’m trying to neatly organise?”

He continues to grin, going to grab the weapon in her hand but she dodges, but he has her wrist pinned against the shelving behind her so it’s useless to try and use it.

“You wanna be turned on? Catch.” She’s confused at his singular word, but with one hand now binding her wrists behind her, he uses the other to force her head backwards.

“What the fuc-”

The liquid drips onto her face from a shelf above. It’s cold. Almost burns but not much.

“Get the hell off me!”

It drips down her cheek and onto her mouth, the small, trickling waterfall of whatever the hell was in the broken vial now pungent on her lips.

The scent is intoxicating. It’s gross, really. Smells like the perfume her grandmother used to cover herself in.

(Y/N)’s legs are kicking up a storm in an attempt to get free from the man but he’s clearly experienced.

“Open that mouth and have a taste, I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

“You’re fucking disgusting.” She spits back but can’t help taste the liquid on her tongue.

“You think I am? Wait until you feel the effects of this nice little number. The boss's favourite. Romance pollen.”

“What the fuck are you going on about?”

He simply smirks and tightens his grip on her face. She winces slightly.

“You’re fucked, little girl.”

“Big talk for a man with no team left.”

The enemy’s head turns from (Y/N) to the new voice in the room, barely having time to react before Bucky pulls the trigger on his gun, watching the man stumble away from the woman and onto the floor.

“You okay?” The super soldier immediately asks, pacing over to his sister and checking her over for any injuries.

“Fine, he didn’t hurt me, just talked a load of shit about whatever the hell this is.” She responds, fingers reaching up to the liquid covering her face. “Tastes quite nice honestly.”

“Don’t fucking drink it, you idiot.” Bucky groans, rolling his eyes.

The woman giggles, having not actively consumed any of the unknown substance, however can taste it at the back of her throat.

“Yeah, yeah. Help me clean the rest of these up and we can go.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They spend another twenty-five minutes in the building before they make it to the Jet. Only the two of them were sent out for the mission, it was barely a struggle, in and out job with barely fifty soldiers defending the vault.

“Hell, I’m shattered.” Bucky groans as they shut the Jet door, heading toward the front and turning on auto-pilot for the ride home.

“Second that. Might get Nat to give me one of her Godly massages when we’re home.”

“Ooh, there’s an idea.”

She sits the briefcase of vials down securely before using one of her bottles of water to quickly rinse her face of the substance sticking to it.

“I’m gonna nap, we got four hours left before we’re home.” Bucky states, removing most of his gear, leaving him in one of his tight gym shirts and work trousers.

“Sounds like a plan.”

The pair settle down on the two benches aligning each side at the back of the Jet, Bucky throwing his sister his hoodie to use as a pillow - or blanket.

“Thanks, Barnesicle.”

“Please stop calling me that.” The soldier groans as she laughs.

“I’ll think about it.”

The two head off to sleep, but it’s just short of an hour later when the woman wakes up again, brows furrowing.

“What the hell?” She breathes aloud to herself, feeling sweat coat all of her body, head throbbing - amongst other things.

Gulping, the woman sits up and grabs her water bottle, taking a swig, or five, hoping it’ll calm her hyperaware state.

“Friday, what’s going on with me?”

“You have a feverish temperature of forty-degrees Celsius, one-hundred-and-four Fahrenheit, your libido is more heightened than what it usually is. I have identified an unknown substance in your body, I am working on a diagnosis but am currently unsure.”

That fucking drug he let drop onto her face. What the hell was in it?

“Wanna be turned on? Catch.”

“Romance pollen.”

So, what? She’s ingested some type of viagra? Is that it? So she’s slightly horny, no biggy. Pretty sure Sam or Steve will be around to deal with that when she gets home.

God forbid Bucky ever found out about that little secret though.

With a quick splash of water on her face once again, the woman attempts to sleep once more.

Attempts being the keyword.

Fails is more like it.

She keeps trying nonetheless. Eyes closed. Thinking of anything to take her mind off of it. But it all circles back around.

Think of home. Movie nights with the team. Horror movies with Wanda screaming when there’s a jump scare. What was the last horror movie we watched? Ooh, the Conjuring. Sat next to Sam. He held me close so I wouldn’t be so nervous. He kept me distracted by resting his-

Oh. Fuck.

Not helping.

Okay. New thoughts.

Think of the olden times back in the forties. Think of Coney Island with Steve and Buck. Think of how it was nice to get closer with Steve. Which led to him fucking me against the side of the toilet block-

Okay. No. Stop.

A rustling from across the Jet makes the woman’s eyes widen as she looks at her brother who rolls over in his sleep.

Bucky.

There’s a thought to keep her grounded.

The man who’s been there for her no matter what. Through everything. Even when HYDRA was wiping her out, he stopped it. He saved her. Always did.

Even when she was a kid and caught the flu, he was always the one making her soup and nursing her back to full health.

She’s very lucky and very grateful to have the brother she has in her life, despite everything they’ve been through.

Perhaps scaring off any man that entered her life was a little bit too far though. She remembers her first kiss with a boy at a diner in town. Bucky had heard rumours through a friend of a friend and was storming there instantly.

The poor boy never spoke to (Y/N) again after that.

“Bucky, you can’t stop me seeing boys!”

“I can and I will. The only man you ever need in your life is me.”

It was so cliche but she commends her brother for it. He was right. The only man who tolerated her through all their hardships and never loved her any less because of them was Bucky.

The only man you ever need in your life is me.

The throbbing in the woman’s groin makes her eyes widen as she keeps her eyes on her brother’s resting figure.

“What the hell? Ew.” She mutters to herself as she lays on her back once more and stares at the ceiling of the Jet.

The seed of thought was planted now and it simply grew from there.

He’s always been everything any man could’ve been for her. Did everything she’d want any man to do for her.

Trained with her. Danced on the sofa with her to pop songs he didn’t even know. Listened to her story ideas. Drove her around town late at night when she was too scared to sleep. Cuddled her when she woke up from nightmares. Listened to her ramble on about some cute couple she saw in the local cafe. Took her on dinner dates when she wanted some fancy food. Sacrificed his choice on movie night for her. Bought her chocolate and green grapes when she was on her period and wanted to eat nothing else. Ran a bath for her ready for when she got back from a mission.

All of these things that she’d want any decent boyfriend to do for her. Why would she ever need a boyfriend when she has Bucky?

Oh, yeah, because Bucky can’t fuck her into oblivion.

Can he?

NO.

God, no, stop. Ew. Gross.

Is it gross?

There’s no doubt to anyone about whether or not the man’s attractive. I mean, just look at him. Everyone always ogles the man whenever he passes by, whether he’s dressed in his full suit, tux, gear or shirtless. He’s a walking piece of art.

He used to be a charmer with all the ladies back in the forties and she knew it full well. She had to witness as he swooped all the ladies off to dance, leaving her and Steve alone at the bar.

Steve and (Y/N) very rapidly figured out a way to occupy their own time. Not that Bucky ever knew. He’d go ape-shit crazy.

There’s a burning shock that runs through the woman’s body, a twitch and an uncontrollable moan pouring from her lips.

She slams her hand over her mouth with wide eyes, head darting to look at the man across the Jet once more.

Fuck.

He’s still asleep. Okay. That’s good.

His face looks so restful. It’s nice. Good to know he’s finally getting some peace.

His beard could feel so fucking good between-

“Oh my God.” (Y/N) sits up once more, staring aimlessly in front of her as she attempts to stop her thoughts.

The throbbing runs through her body again and it’s pulsating right where the need is. The craving. The desperation. The desire.

She stands up and even that makes her wobble on her feet, despite the jet moving smoothly through the skies.

She realises her lips are parted and her breathing is coming out in heavy pants, hands trembling and saliva building up rapidly.

“Fuck.”

“Agent (L/N), would you like me to turn on the alarms to wake up Sergeant Barnes? It appears you are severely unwell.”

“No. God, no.” Is all she manages, leaning against the two pilot chairs from behind, staring out the front windows at the clouds.

“That doesn’t sound wise, doll.” Her brother’s voice calls from behind her a few seconds later.

Shit.

Did his voice always sound so fucking sexy?

“What’s going on, Friday?”

“NO! No, Friday, don’t say anything.” (Y/N) yells, spinning around to look at her brother.

That’s a mistake.

Bucky’s furrowed brows immediately raise and his eyes widen entirely at the sight of his sister.

Sweaty, red-faced, parted lips, chest heaving for breath.

“(Y/N) what’s wrong?” He asks, quickly standing up but the woman holds her hand out, gesturing for him to remain still.

“Don’t… Don’t move.”

The brunet listens but his concerned expression remains.

“What’s going on, sweetheart? You’re kinda freaking me out here.”

She meets his gaze and feels her body throb with need once more.

“Fuck.” She manages to cover her moan with the curse but she’s still very aware that it sounded ridiculously filthy.

“Talk to me, (Y/N).”

Her head shakes and she can feel just how wobbly her legs are once again.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.”

She remains silent besides her heavy breaths.

“Is it that liquid that fucker put on you? Are you having a bad reaction or something? Are you in pain?”

So many questions, Bucky. So many better ways to use that fucking mouth-

“Oh my God!” She screams at herself as she thinks the absolute filth about her own flesh and blood.

“Friday, tell me what’s going on now.”

She doesn’t have the energy to stop him.

“Agent (L/N) appears to have an unknown substance in her body which I’m attempting to diagnose, it’s currently causing symptoms including an increased temperature of forty-degrees Celsius, one-hundred-and-four degrees Fahrenheit, cramping, weakened bodily strength, and predominantly an enhanced libido.”

Bucky’s eyes widen at the latter fact, now noticing the way his sister is clenching her thighs together.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

“Don’t fucking-” The woman cuts herself off with another wave of throbbing desire. Another moan.

Her legs give way, collapsing to her knees.

“(Y/N)!” Bucky dives forward off of the bench he was sleeping on, dropping to his knees in front of the woman and grabbing her arms.

The touch is like the water to the burning fire going on inside her body. It feels so fucking good.

“Oh fuck.” Another moan.

Bucky tenses slightly at the sound.

“(Y/N), look at me, baby doll.”

The name has always been sweet and endearing but right now it’s like music to her ears.

She does and her brother can visibly see the want in her iris’.

“Oh, fuck,” He mumbles.

“Bucky-” It’s a whimper, her eyes tearing up and reaching out to grip onto him. Anything.

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” He offers, pulling his sister into his lap and holding her close. “I got you, (Y/N), I’m not going anywhere. Talk to me, where does it hurt?”

“Need it to stop, Buck. Hurts so bad.”

“I know, baby, I know, but you gotta tell me where. Let me help.”

He doesn’t know when he started to notice, she doesn’t know when she started doing it, but her hips are grinding on the man’s thighs, her breathing getting heavier and heavier.

“Hurts so bad, Buck; need it to stop. Please- fuck- make it stop.”

The man’s eyes are wide as he acknowledges his sister quite literally getting herself off on him.

“(Y/N), stop, think about what the hell you’re doing.” He attempts but doesn’t push her out of reach. She’s in pain, he won’t let her suffer alone.

“Bucky,” She whispers, their eyes meet once more, her own expression so fucking lust-blown.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

What the hell is he even meant to do in situations like this?

Call Steve? Oh yeah, and ask what? Hey, pal, any advice for when my sister is trying to get herself off on me?

A noise that something between a moan and a scream rips from the woman’s mouth.

“Fuck, (Y/N),”

“Bucky, please, make it stop, it hurts so bad!” She’s sobbing. Her face is bright red and stained with tears that keep flowing.

“Princess, listen to me: I can’t do anything for you right now. We’ve gotta wait til we’re home-”

“Can’t wait, need to cum.”

The brunet’s eyes widen once again at the seriousness in his sibling’s expression.

“Please, James, I’m gonna die.”

He doesn’t know what struck him more, the use of his first name in such context or the fact that his sister just told him she’s going to die.

“I won’t let you die, (Y/N), don’t be stupid.”

“James,” She whimpers, crawling forward into his lap once more and pressing her forehead against his. “Please,”

“Please what, baby?” He whispers, questioning his willpower when she’s staring into his eyes with such wanton need.

“Please touch me.”

The man closes his eyes.

“I can’t do that, doll. You’ve gotta wait til we get home, I’m sure I can ask in a favour from Steve-”

“Steve isn’t you!”

Opening his eyes once more, he can see that she really is in pain.

“Sweetheart, please, I’m your brother.”

She fucking moans at the term.

“Yeah, you’re my big brother, only you can make me feel good. No other man can do anything for me. Don’t need anyone else.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Baby, I’m gonna go over here and you’re gonna try touch yourself to help the pain, alright? You think you can do that for me, (Y/N)?”

She nods her head and is yanking her clothes off immediately. The soldier widens his eyes and quickly turns away, searching through his rucksack in an attempt to find the earphones he thought he packed. Apparently he didn’t.

“Fucks sake.”

“Oh, fuck,” The woman behind him moans, his eyes widening but he doesn't look.

The sound of how fucking wet she is is enough to send the man’s head into overdrive.

This is so very fucking wrong.

“Fuck, James,” Another moan.

Is this really happening? Surely the Universe is playing some sick joke on him right now? Right?

“Oh, fuck, God, I’m gonna cum,”

The man closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to focus on anything else. But her screams and moans aren’t helping him.

The sound of her orgasm crashes into him like nothing else.

“Bucky,” She sobs, his instincts prompting him to spin around in case she’s not okay.

She’s orgasmed now so she’ll be fine, right?

Wrong.

Her legs are spread, soaking wet pussy on full display, her fingers soaked, her mouth tasting herself.

“Fuck me, James.”

He locks eyes with her and he looks scared.

“(Y/N), I need you to think about what you’re saying. You’re not yourself, you’re under the influence of whatever the hell that bastard put on you.”

“I don’t care, James, I just need the pain to go away. Need my big brother to take care of me.” She’s whimpering, fingers sliding back down to the soaking hole.

“Baby girl, you know I’ll always take care of you but I can’t do this to you, sweetheart. I won’t.”

She sobs.

“It hurts so so bad.”

The man swears the pain that HYDRA put him through was nothing compared to this.

She begins crawling toward the man who’s now stood, his eyes cautiously watching her.

“Baby-”

“Shh, Bucky, let me play,”

Her hands slide up his legs, reaching for the top of his work trousers, sliding them down.

The man above her steps backwards.

“Fuck, (Y/N), doll, stop,”

“Need you so bad. I’m gonna die, Jamesy.”

His eyes widen for the nth time at the sudden change in her voice. She sounds genuinely upset. Genuinely scared.

“I don’t wanna die. I just want the pain to go away, need my big brother to take care of me like he always does.”

She crawls forward again, repeating her previous actions and pulling his pants down, his semi-erect cock slipping out and she wastes no time before letting it fill her mouth.

He stops trying to fight it. He wants to, but fuck, she looks like she’s dying. He believes her words.

“Oh fuck,” The man’s head lolls back as he feels the warmth of his mouth.

She wastes no time in forcing the man’s cock down her throat, surpassing her gag reflex and pressing her lips to his pelvis.

“Oh fuck, baby, oh fuck,” He recites the words like a prayer, but no God will save him now.

Her eyes look up and meet his stare.

His mind is reeling with so many thoughts.

Has she always looked this fucking good? How the hell has she learned to take cock so fucking well? Is she a whore? God, he hopes so. He wants to be the only man to ever break her. The only man to ever know what a good little slut she is. For him and him only.

“Look so fucking pretty on your knees for your big brother, baby girl.” Her eyes roll at the praise, pulling back to take a quick breath before working his shaft until he’s grabbing her hair and thrusting into her mouth like he’s been possessed. “That’s a good fucking girl, let me use that filthy mouth.”

His hips are relentless. Abusing the poor girl’s mouth but she has absolutely zero complaints. Her mind is clouded with nothing but lust. She knows nothing but to spread her legs for anyone she can see.

“Fuck me, Bucky,” She whimpers as the man pulls out for a second.

She lays down on her back, spreading her legs once more and staring up at the feral eyes of her brother.

“Fuck my pussy, fill me with cum, Jamesy, please,”

“Fuck, baby,” He groans, reaching down and lifting the woman up.

He lifts her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his hips, arms around his neck.

“Want me to fuck you? Need your big brother to fill your tight little pussy with his cock? Make you feel good, baby doll? Is that what you need?” He growls against her, their lips barely touching.

“YES! Yes, fuck, Bucky, please, fuck me, fuck my pussy.”

Without another ounce of doubt in his mind, the man lines up his fully-erect cock with her pussy and slams it inside her.

“FUCK!”

“BUCKY!”

Their moans are in sync and the forbidden nature of their activity is long-forgotten as the soldier basks in how good she feels around his cock.

“Feel so fucking good, princess. This was you needed? Needed your big brother’s cock to fill you up and take away the pain?”

“Fuck, James, yes, feels so fucking good, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“I’m not stopping, baby, I’m not stopping til you gush all over my cock like a good little slut.”

The only sound on the Jet is their moans and cries as Bucky rids the woman of all her pain.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum- James, fuck, gonna make me cum on your cock.” (Y/N) all but whines, Bucky turning to slam her body into the nearest wall, using the aid to fuck into her harder. Deeper.

“Yeah, doll? Fucking give it to me, princess. Cum all over your brother’s cock like a good little whore. Let me see how fucking good you can be for me.”

Their eyes lock once more and Bucky can’t help himself from slamming his lips onto hers, tongues invading each others’ mouths as she groans and squeezes him like a vice, gushing all over his shaft as he continues to thrust into her at a relentless pace.

“God, baby, who knew you’d feel so good on my dick?”

Her head holds zero thoughts besides knowing that being sexually relieved will stop the pain. That’s all she knows, and the man in front of her is the only possible candidate and, boy, is he giving her exactly what she needs.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” She cries, rapidly feeling her third orgasm of the day approaching.

Using the balance of the wall to his advantage, Bucky uses one arm to hold the woman up against it whilst his flesh one leaps to her throat, lightly wrapping around it and squeezing.

“Gonna cum for me, (Y/N)? Such a little whore, can’t stop cumming on her big brother’s cock. Give it to me, baby, give me all of it.”

The words are the harmony to the bass that’s throbbing through her entire body.

“Bucky!” She gasps, sweat-covered foreheads pressed against one another as she’s overcome with euphoria.

The clench of her walls around his dick is overwhelming.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby doll, gonna fill up my little sister’s slutty pussy with all my cum. You want that, baby? Tell me. Tell me you want it.”

“I want it so bad! I need it! Need my big brother’s cum in my pussy, daddy, please!”

The small pet name is all it takes for the man to lose control. His hips thrust into the woman, moaning her name over and over as he fills her as deep as he can.

“Fuck, baby, yes, take daddy’s cum!”

The cry that pours from (Y/N)’s lips is enough for them both to know that the orgasm was most likely enough to knock her out of the sex-craving cloud she’s trapped in.

Bucky’s thighs are trembling as he comes down from his high, (Y/N)’s head resting on the soldier’s shoulder as he does the same to her.

They remain silent, both their heads fuzzy with what the hell just happened.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky is the first to break the silence. (Y/N) hums a response. “You back with me?”

Tears fill the woman’s eyes once more but these ones aren’t due to pleasure.

She hums again and nods against his shoulder.

“Okay, baby.” He whispers, taking a deep breath.

His number one priority right now is making sure his sister is okay.

“I’m gonna pull out, okay, doll?”

She nods again.

With both hands now having returned to holding her up, the brunet slowly slides out of her hole, hating the whimpers that erupt from her lips at the feeling.

“I know, sweetheart, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

She knows he does. He always does.

“M’gonna sit you down on the bench, okay? Gonna clean up between your legs if that’s okay with you?”

She simply hums another acknowledgement of her sibling’s words.

“Give me your words, princess.” She won’t meet his eye when she’s laid down on the bench, Bucky feeling his heart crumble.

“Okay.” It’s barely a whisper.

He doesn’t rush anything right now, simply focuses on looking after his sister who he loves more than life itself.

He grabs some wet wipes from the treatment bag onboard the Jet and begins gently cleaning up the mess coating the woman’s thighs and other regions.

“All done, princess.” He utters, tossing the wipes into the bin across the way.

He helps her redress, as well as himself, before kneeling down in front of her as she’s sat on the bench.

“Can you look at me, baby?”

Her eyes are glued to her lap, fingers fiddling with each other in an attempt to distract herself from everything she just did.

“(Y/N), sweetheart, please,” He begs, taking her hands into his own, eyes desperately trying to capture the attention of her own.

She finally gives in and glances up at her brother.

Brother.

Tears are spilling over in an instant, uncontrollable sobs following suit.

“Oh, baby,” Bucky consoles, leaning forward and letting the woman dive into his arms, clinging onto him as she cries. “It’s okay, sweetheart, shh, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, okay? We’re gonna be okay.”

She’s gripping at his t-shirt like it’s keeping her held together. Her knuckles are white, Bucky attempting to loosen her grip.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself, doll.”

“So what!?” She breaks, looking up at her brother once again.

His brows furrow.

“I just fucking seduced you into fucking your own sister because of a fucking drug because I wasn’t more fucking careful!” She yells, flinging her arms about in an attempt to express her frustration.

“(Y/N), stop! Calm down and just breathe!” He grabs her wrists and sits them back down in her lap, not releasing them.

“I fucked up.” Her voice drops back down to a mere whisper.

“No you didn’t, sweetheart. First of all, you were under the influence of a drug, second of all, I was the one not under the influence and yet I still let it happen, so if anyone is to blame here, it’s me.”

Her head shakes in disagreement.

“I seduced you.”

“So fucking what? I fucked my own sister when she wasn’t capable of rational thoughts.”

Stating the fact aloud makes him tense up. The daunting realisation of what he just did.

“I’m so sorry. I know sorry isn’t enough, it doesn’t even come close, but I thought you were dying, I just-”

“I was dying! I remember the fucking pain, Bucky, I remember it. You needed to.”

The pair simply rest their foreheads against one another and remain eye to eye as they try and calm each other down.

They crossed the line and should never be crossed between siblings, so what happens now?

She gulps and licks her lips, an action that Bucky’s eyes are immediately drawn to before quickly catching himself in the act.

They’re trying to read each other's minds for any answers of what the hell they’re both thinking.

“(Y/N)-”

“James-”

They start at the same time, both giggling at the action.

“Go on, sweetheart-”

“You first-”

Another round of laughter.

“I’m sorry for what I did but I’m not sorry for how good it felt.” She whispers, his eyes widening ever so slightly. “I know it’s wrong, we can’t and won’t do it again. Once we’re off this Jet we never speak-”

His lips are on hers instantly.

Her eyes widen but she doesn’t stop him. She welcomes him.

“Once we’re off this Jet, right?” He whispers, her own eyes staring at him with a look that asks: are we really doing this? But she nods. “Then what happens on this Jet stays on this Jet, right?”

“Yes, Bucky,”

“Good girl.”

She moans. Truly. Wantonly. With zero regret.

“Bucky, this is wrong.” She mutters between kisses.

“I know, sweetheart, but tell me to stop and I will, no questions asked. Tell me you want it and I’ll take good care of my sweet girl.”

Another moan.

“Tell me to stop.” He notes, lips moving down her neck. His teeth nibble down on the skin before his tongue smooths it over.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” Is the full permission he receives in a gasp from the woman.

“Tell me to stop at any point, baby, and I will without hesitation, okay?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Fuck.” The man all but growls.

His hands are pulling at the t-shirt that adorns her torso, ripping off her bra immediately after. She gasps but it morphs into a pleasant whine when the soldier’s lips wrap around her pebbled nipples.

“Who knew my pretty little girl was hiding such pretty tits, huh?”

“I never hid them-” She whispers, eyes intently watching the man toy with her body, her pussy throbbing with need once again.

His teeth bite down onto her right nipple, hearing her hiss in pain.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I fucking know. You think I don’t notice the tight tops and lingerie you parade around in? You think I don’t know that you’ve been fucking Steve and Sammy-boy behind my back?”

She gasps and widens her eyes.

“Buck, I-”

“Shh, baby girl, don’t worry, I don’t mind, I know they’ll both look after you, but I’m your big brother and no man will ever take care of you the way I will, alright? You and me against the world.”

“Fuck, yes, Bucky!” She screams as his fingers work their way into her trousers.

“That’s my fucking girl.” His fingers are quickly inside her, still soaked, pussy, despite him having cleaned her up. “So fucking wet for me, princess; I only just cleaned you up.”

“James,” She gasps, their eyes locking once again.

“God, you look so fucking beautiful like this. Desperate. Wanting.” He murmurs, pressing his lips to hers once again as he slides two fingers inside her hole.

She whines, biting down on her lip.

“Fuck, doll, I knew you were tight around my cock but you’re even squeezing my fingers.”

Who knew her brother had such a filthy mouth on him?

She would never have known, he’s only ever showered her with love and affection.

There’s a niggling voice in the back of her brain that’s screaming how wrong this is, but when has the life of James and (Y/N) Barnes ever been normal?

She’s pretty sure HYDRA got them to fuck under their control anyway. Something about breeding and getting more super soldiers. It, obviously, didn’t succeed.

Her hips start bucking against his digits, grinding her clit down on his fist.

“Look at the state of you, princess; so pretty and desperate just for my fingers.”

“Don’t stop,” It’s barely a whisper of a plea.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby girl.”

So many pet names. She’s addicted.

Steve barely calls her anything besides her own name in the bedroom, Sam’s a bit better but it doesn’t escalate much further than ‘little girl’.

She feels the coil in her belly tightening once more, and this time she doesn’t feel like she’ll succumb to death’s embrace if she doesn’t let that coil break, but she needs it just as bad.

“Gonna cum, fuck, yes…!” Her eyes roll back with her head.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over your big brother’s fingers like a good little slut.”

The words are once again reminding her of the filth she’s partaking in, and with whom, but she can’t stop the orgasm he gives her. Perfect pressure on her g-spot as his thumb puts the perfect amount of pressure on her clit.

She screams and grabs onto the man, nails digging into his minimal clothing in an attempt to ground herself.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it, hold onto daddy. Let me make you feel good. Give me all that cum.”

It’s almost overwhelming.

Her breathing is rapid, mouth almost dry.

“Breathe for me, (Y/N), you’re okay. I’ve got you, doll.” He whispers, slowing down the movements of his fingers and using his other hand to hold his sister close, stroking her head and back in an attempt to calm her.

Tears fill the woman’s eyes once more at Bucky’s words. At the end of the day, even when they’re both mildly deluded and breaking laws and moral codes, he will still protect her.

“Bucky,” She whispers, pulling back and meeting his eyes with her own tearful ones.

“Hey, it’s okay, baby girl, it’s okay.” He sighs, seeing the woman’s tears and wiping them away. “You okay?”

She nods and a large smile etches onto her lips.

“More than okay.”

He chuckles and slides his fingers from her pants, admiring the glistening cum that coats them. The man holds no remorse as he keeps his gaze locked on hers, sliding the digits into his mouth.

“James…” She whispers, admiring the view more than she should.

“Taste like heaven, princess. That’s my girl.”

The whimper that escapes past her closed lips is not intentional. He smirks.

“We’re bad people.” She manages, searching his eyes for any sign of reassurance.

“We became bad people the second HYDRA put their hands on us, sweetheart.”

He’s not wrong.

“What happens now?”

Bucky shrugs, grabbing some more wet wipes and wiping her up once more.

“That’s up to you, angel.”

“We can’t tell anyone, they’ll think we’re insane.”

He chuckles slightly and shakes his head.

“We are insane, doll.”

She can’t help but also giggle at that.

“I love you, Buck.”

“And I you, (Y/N).”

They stare at one another for the nth time, the brunet’s eyes fluttering to his sister’s lips momentarily.

“Kiss me.” She whispers, not missing the glance.

“Dangerous game, sweetheart.”

“We are dangerous, Barnes.”

The grin that takes over his face is contagious.

“That we are, my sweet girl, that we are.” He murmurs, pressing his lips to hers once more.

She didn’t mean to ingest whatever was in that vial.

She didn’t mean to seduce her brother.

But perhaps he’s right, they never really were good people in the first place.

But even when the whole Universe is against them, they still have each other.

Even when he has no-one, he has (Y/N).

And even when she has no-one, she has Bucky.

I'm choosing to not use my usual tag list because I know the topic is of uncommon and risky taste. No hate xoxo

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

a bucket of apples

A/N: yet another fic originally posted earlier this year…

warnings: Steve Harrington x reader, farmer!Steve, neighbours, light continuation of my previous farmer!Steve fic, plumbing issues

word count: 1325

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | farmer!steve au masterlist

Sprawled out on your back, you looked up, completely puzzled, at the twisting and turning pipes. 

Turns out there was a bit of a plumbing issue, one that, try as you might, and oh boy did you try, you couldn’t fix it yourself. 

If the small kitchen window hadn’t been cracked open, you probably wouldn’t have heard the faint footsteps coming from outside your home. Bolting up, you nearly bumped your head into one of the lower-than-expected tubes, thankfully only catching some of your loose hair in it. Letting out a small hiss at the tug, you scrambled to free yourself from this entanglement.  

Who could it be? The plumber guy said over the phone that he’d be here tomorrow, so who was it?

Now at the ivory front door, you turned the doorhandle, revelling non-other than your neighbour, Steve, looking up at you as if you’d just caught him with his fingers down the cookie jar or something. 

Setting down the heavy bucket of apples that he had in his arms, he blinked, “oh, hi! I, um, I didn’t think you were home.”

A small breathy laugh bubbled out of you as you saw the blushing apples that he had attempted to simply drop off without you ever noticing it was him, like an apple fairy or something. “Hey, I, yeah, I-I am home.”

“I was just, um,” he fumbled a bit, leaning against the yellow wall that angled out beside the door, “well I thought you might like some apples, so I just wanted to drop some off for you…”

“Oh, really? Thank you so much!”

“It’s no problem, I’m kinda swimming in them at the moment,” he remarked, then caught sight of your fiddling hands, “why are you holding a wrench?”

“Well,” looking down at the cool metal in your palm, “as it turns out, the pipes here are total crap at being, well, pipes,” you told, “I called a guy about it, he’ll come take a look at it tomorrow.”

“I’d offer you a hand, but I really don’t know anything about plumbing…”

“It’s alright, I’ve figured out a way to survive without it for a hot minute. Thinking about going down to the lake to just get somewhat clean, because I am starting to feel kinda gross,” abruptly becoming very aware of how unyielding his gaze was upon you, you added under your breath, “and now I’m suddenly very aware of how unpresentable I must look right now, I’m sorry.”

“Ah, you look great. The greasy hair is really working for you.”

Choking out a chuckle, you looked down, “thanks.”

“You know, if you don’t want to take a dip in the lake, then you can always just come borrow my shower,” he suggested. 

Squinting your eyes at him, you weren’t sure if this was just him feeling obligated to help, “I don’t wanna put you out.”

“You’re not!” he assured you, shaking his head quickly, “promise.”

“Alright, if you insist…”

“I do. Even though I fully stand by my statement of this being a good look on you, I do faintly remember the clean version being pretty good as well… your hair does that little,” he motioned vaguely to his own, “thing… It’s nice…”

Already shedding a few of the outermost layers, you waited in the surprisingly vibrant lavatory for Steve to return. 

Bending down to yank off your stripy socks, your neighbour appeared in the doorway, fluffy green towel in hand, “here,” he handed it down to you.

“Thanks,” you grabbed it and placed it up on the side of the sink. 

Turning to let you get to it, he then whirled around again, unable to stop himself, “Oh, and if it takes a minute for the water to get hot, just give it a second, don’t turn it all the way up unless you wanna burn yourself. It’ll get warm, just give it a bit of time.”

With one hand, you started to work at the small buttons down your blouse, “noted.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, eyes following your nimble fingers' movements, then quickly shook his head and smiled, turning around to give you some privacy, “I’ll just be out here if you need anything.”

“Cool, I’ll let you know if I drop the soap,” you kidded, successfully coaxing out a small laugh from him. Attempting to swing the door shut, it, alas, didn’t work fully, leaving it just shy of closed with a sliver of the hallway still visible as you stripped down and turned on the water. 

Hair still dripping gently onto the change of clothes you’d brought with you, creating dark splotches all the way down your back, you tip-toed out into the kitchen, finding Steve standing there with his back turned to you, placing a dripping glass onto the dishrack, and then snatching up the checkered dishtowel that was resting on his shoulder in order to dry off his hands. 

“Hey,” you leaned against the doorframe. 

“Oh,” he whooshed around, “hi, hey.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you.”

 “You didn’t, I just,” he stared at you, visibly losing his train of thought, “…how was your shower?”

“It was good,” you crossed your arms, flashing him a warm smile, “thanks again, it really was so kind of you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he breathed out, not even twitching a muscle when a sharp whistling was heard from the stove behind him. 

“Steve,” why did you almost sound out of breath? He was just looking at you, “the kettle…”

“Right,” he shook himself out of the slightly stunned state he’d fallen into, and whipped around to take care of the source of the howling, “do you want a cup of tea? Coffee?”

“Tea would be great, thanks.”

Pouring you both a cup, you eventually relocated out onto the porch. Leaning against the railing, hot enamel mugs in hand, you looked out onto the sprawling scenery that he was lucky enough to call home. 

“So,” you tapped your thumb lightly against the side of your cup, “did you always know you wanted to be an apple farmer?” you watched him lean his forearms onto the white railing, “do you come from one of those long farmer lineages?”

“Um, kinda,” he took a small sip, gazing out upon the rich orchard, ”my parents, they didn’t do this. They’re not exactly what you’d call nature folk, but my grandfather, my mom’s dad, he did. He kinda left me this place… I don’t know if he somehow knew or if he just thought I’d sell it off and use the money for something else, but when he died, and I came back here to sort everything out, I don’t know, something just kinda changed… It just hit me that I could do this and the more I dove into it the more I loved it.” His eyes flickered back to your staring, “so to answer your question, no. I didn’t always know.”

Feeling his heavy gaze upon you once more, you suddenly didn’t know how to reply and instead just looked down, trying to hide your surely flushed face, “I get it, I mean, this house is beautiful…” you kept your vision glued to the amber drink sloshing around in your cup, practically blabbering to it instead of the man beside you, “huge… do you really live here all alone? Or do you have a, I don’t know, a wife or something? Do you secretly have like six children?” you winched silently at yourself, scrambling your brain for a smooth way to recover. 

Chuckling, he replied, “no, I don’t, it’s just me here, no wife, no kids.”

“Cool, cool,” you brought the cup up to your lips, trying and most likely failing to sound casual.

“I mean unless you count the group of kids that have the tendency to break in and steal my apples as my children, then sure. It’s the fucking brady bunch over here.” 

© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[pterodactylterrace]

Pop

Title: Pop

Pairing: Syverson x OFC (could also be a reader insert)

Rating: T

Summary: Very, very fluffy. Almost indecently so.

Warnings: language, nudity mentioned, pregnancy, birth, slight daddy kink if you squint a little?

“Oh my God! Fuck you!” She squealed her head snapping to look over her shoulder, wide eyes fixed on his equally surprised blue gaze, confetti still dancing to the ground around them.

“Uhh… surprise?”

“Theodore Leslie Syverson, I swear to god if you just made my goddman water break.” She ranted, staring down at the pool of liquid at her feet, schooling her expression to remain fearful and angry, making sure the empty water balloon was hidden within her tiny hand, the other full one tucked out of his view.

“Shit… I… Oh shit.” Syverson sputtered, staring in horror at his wife’s back, his mind desperately trying to catch up.

“Oh Fuck, SY!” She squealed, quickly spinning and launching the remaining water balloon at him, laughing as it exploded over his baffled face.

“I what… That…. WOMAN!” Sy eventually forced out, staring at her incredulously. “Did you seriously just fake going into labor? That is too far!”

“Sucker!” She laughed, merrily dancing away from her still fuming husband.

“Oh, it’s on.” Syverson whispered to himself, already grabbing the broom from the hall cupboard to clean up the mess he’d made.

~*~

“Understood, sir. I will have those reports filed by EOD.” Syverson affirmed into the webcam, his major giving a curt nod of understanding. Sy jumped at the loud pop going off, groaning and shaking his head as confetti rained down around him. He got a glimpse of his wife dancing away with a confetti cannon on his monitor, the cardboard tube being launched and thumping harmlessly off his head.

“Apologizes, sir. It’s the hormones.” Syverson apologized with a straight face, trying to pretend he wasn’t covered in tiny multicolored pieces of paper.

“I do not envy you, Syverson.” His Major snorted, shaking his head. “Make sure you file that leave paperwork. She looks like she could go any day now.”

“Yes, sir.” Syverson nodded, saluting before ending the call, groaning and letting his head fall forward. “You’re lucky, Sugar!”

“Lucky how?” She laughed, poking her head back into the room. “Lucky your major is my dad?” She teased, Syverson breaking out into a grin and opening his arms up to her.

“Well, I was gonna say you’re lucky ‘cause I love you so much. Now I’m hurt; making it sound like I slept my way to where I am today.”

“I mean, you kinda did.” She giggled, perching herself on his thick thigh, rubbing a hand over her swollen belly.

“True, that is how we ended up with this.” Syverson agreed, rubbing his own calloused paw over her bump. “Now go on, lemme finish this and I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”

~*~

“That is NOT funny!” Her voice rang out, yanking him out of the sound sleep he’d found himself in on the couch, the credits to the romcom he’d been conned into watching rolling up the screen.

“What?” Syverson half yawned, sitting up and looking for her voice.

“My cup!” She pouted, stomping her foot angrily, vainly trying to stretch up to the second shelf where the ceramic sat just out of her reach.

“You always said the second shelf was the limit, Sugar.” Syverson teased, sauntering over to the kitchen, leaning against the archway as he watched her trying to maneuver her belly out of the way to extend her reach just a little bit more. “Come on, now. One more time, you almost got it.” He chuckled, watching as the fabric of the shirt she had blatantly stolen from him slid up over her backside again, giving him a view of the dark cotton material.

“Daddy!” She whined, pouting over her shoulder at him, Sy groaning softly and pressing himself up behind her, pulling her hips back into him.

“I think I have a better way of getting you to sleep instead ‘a that new age hippie garbage.”

“How is tea new age hippie garbage?” She laughed as he easily reached over her and took down the cup for her.

“Ain’t nothing older than getting’ it on, Sugar.” Syverson chuckled, grinding his hips against her back.

~*~

“I just can’t sleep, Teddy!”

“I’m so uncomfortable!”

“I’m tired but I’m not sleepy!”

There was no way the little spitfire that spouted all that nonsense was the same one napping away on the couch. He’d called her 3 times and she was still snoring. At this rate they were going to be late for their appointment. He snatched up the sharpie from the side table, uncapping it with his teeth he tugged her shirt up, exposing her stomach, which looked painfully swollen at this late point in her pregnancy. He scrawled across her stomach, the woman barely moving as he wrote.

“Sugar!” He bellowed out again once he had hidden the evidence of his misdeed.

“Stop yelling, I’m right here!” She groaned, shooting him an irritated look as she sat up.

It wasn’t until over an hour later when she finally realized what he had done. She lifted her shirt up and pulled the extended waistband of her maternity pants under her belly, finally catching a glimpse of her husband’s signature, proudly signed across her stomach.

Captain T.L. Syverson

Reported for BOOTY

“I am so sorry.” She sighed, slumping at the ultrasound technician’s strange look. “My husband thinks he’s funny.”

“Well, he’s getting an early start on the dad jokes.”

~*~

“Ah! Fuck!” She hissed, clutching her stomach as it contracted again. “Teddy?” She called, reaching out and gently shaking his shoulder, instantly snapping him awake.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sitting bolt upright, straining his ears for any noises as he scanned the perimeter of the room.

“I’m having contractions. They’re getting worse.”

“Sugar… you promised me you wouldn’t use the baby in any more of your schemes.” Syverson warned suspiciously.

“Teddy, don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m just sayin’… is your water gonna break again?”

“Oh my God, Teddy, I will kill you!”

“You’re really in labor?”

“Yes, I… hang on!” She groaned, rolling over with some effort and pulling out the confetti cannon hidden just below, pulling the string and setting it off. “I’m in labor!” She cheered, Syverson rushing to help her out of bed.

“You’re in labor!” Syverson laughed, kissing the top of her head lovingly.

“Ouch, ok that hurts.” She groaned, gripping his forearms tightly as her stomach tightened again.

“Those are close.” Syverson muttered to himself, waiting for her to ease her death grip to gently tilt her chin up to look at him. “Hospital?”

“I think so… I don’t know, I haven’t done this before!” She groaned, shifting on her feet uncomfortably.

“Neither have I, Sugar. I’ll go put the bags in the car, ok?”

“Get dressed first you lunatic!”

~*~

“It’s likely the worst photo of me I’ve ever seen.”

“Aw, don’t be silly, darlin’. You look beautiful.” Syverson chuckled, planting a whisker roughened kiss on her cheek.

“Are we looking at the same picture?” She scoffed, shifting their newborn son in her arms, looking back at the screen of her husband’s phone. Her, hair pulled up into a disaster of a bun, body still swollen from giving birth, a hospital gown flapped open as she reached for something, showing off her very fashionable diaper made of mesh undies and the world’s biggest pad.

“I mean, I see the most beautiful girl in the world, right after she just did one of the hardest things a person can do. And she’s in her underwear. Look at those.” Syverson insisted, zooming in on her backside. “You can’t tell me that’s not hot!” He laughed, wiping a tear from his eye when she shoved his shoulder in irritation. “It’s like your comfy panties on steroids!”

“I actually brought those with me.” She snorted, Syverson’s laughter doubling at her confession. “If you ask nicely, I’ll let you take off my hospital grade slipper socks.”

“Aww, darlin’, talk dirty to me.”

“Yeah? You could take off these rough uncomfortable socks that someone else wore yesterday. I might even need your help to clip my nails while you’re down there.”

“Oh baby, you don’t know what you do to me.” Syverson snorted.

“And then? If you’re a good boy, I might need you to help me rub lanolin on my cracked nipples. I’ll even let you change my nursing pads.”

“Oh hell, I don’t know what any of that is.”

Tags:  @weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay @packerfan43

[vacant--body]

MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING: Su!c!de attempt, graphic description of bl00d, mentions of death, medical procedure talk, loss of pregnancy, PTSD, lots and lots of angst, mentions of drinking.

Female!reader, love triangle with Steve and Bucky (kinda?)

Word count: roughly 2,076

Please don't read if any of these warnings will trigger you :)

I'M SO SORRY PLEASE DON'T HATE ME

✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿

Bucky's eyes snapped open, his advanced hearing honing in on the soft wails coming from down the hall. It was you, it always you. He inhaled sharply and pushed himself out of his warm bed, his dog tags clinking against his bare chest. It gets worse when Steve isn't here; your night terrors. He's the only one that can rock you back to sleep, soothing your tear stained cheeks and calming your raging mind. Bucky isn't very good at it, but he can get the job done.

His door slid open and he walked quietly down the hallway, careful not to wake anybody else up. Tony had to semi soundproof your room. When you first came to live in the compound, your screams would keep everyone up all night. Now only Bucky and Steve could hear your cries, which often made for sleepless nights. But lately it’s been getting better, which he was thankful for. Both for your sake and his sake.

Bucky stopped in front of your door, expecting it to just slide open like it normally does. But it didn't. Confused, he waved his hand in front of the sensor but it didn't budge. "Friday?" He yawned, annoyed. What couldn't Tony just put in normal doors? They're so much simpler. "What's wrong with the door?"

"It seems that Ms. Y/L/N has locked it." Strange. You never lock it.

"Well, unlock it." He snapped back at the AI.

"I cannot. She has over-ridden my capabilities to unlock it."

"What?" Bucky asked, suddenly more awake. The hairs on his arms stood up and a gut wrenching feeling began to churn in his stomach. He could hear you on the other side, still crying. "Y/N!" Bucky yelled pounding on the door. The cries grew harder. "Y/N open the door!"

"Go away!" You screamed. "Just go!" This wasn't a night terror, you were awake. “I don’t need you, Bucky!”

"Friday, get Tony down here." Bucky yelled, pounding on the door again. "Y/N please just open the door! Let me help!"

"Don't need your help." There was the sound of the bathtub starting up. "Just go."

"Bucky,” A tired voice groaned from behind him. Sam. "It's 2:30 in the morning, why in the hell are you screaming."

"Y/N locked us out." He muttered, pressing his ear against the door. He could hear you whimpering on the other side. "Friday can't open it."

"Friday, get Tony-"

"He is on his way." She replied back. "Ms. Y/N also disabled her cameras. I can't see inside there either."

"Y/N!" Bucky tried again, his voice cracking just enough for him to notice. Hopefully not enough for Sam to notice.

"Does someone wanna tell me why I am down here in the middle of the god damn night?" Another voice said behind them.

"Just get the fucking door open." Bucky snarled. Tony took note of the worry and urgency in his voice and unlatched a panel that was next to the door. He moved some wires around and the door hissed open.

Bucky rushed in and the state of your room hit him like a truck. It was a wreak. Your mattress was halfway off of its frame, your dresser was knocked over with all the clothes torn out, and there was a smashed chair in the corner. You had also punched out your mirror, making Bucky's footsteps crunch as he walked through her room. How did he not hear this? Why didn't he wake up? But that's not what bothered Bucky. His nose instantly picked up on a coppery smell that stung the inside of his nostrils, making him instantly nauseous. He pushed into the bathroom, where somehow the cupboard was shoved in front of.

The sight before him was enough to make him cry and vomit at the same time. You were submerged in the bathtub, the water stained a bright red color. A long shard of glass from the mirror was laying on the floor, stained with your crimson blood. Two deep long cuts had been carved into your forearms. The ringing in his ears slowly subsided and he heard the sound of either Tony or Sam dry heaving behind him. He wasn't sure who it was.

"Friday, prep medical bay. Get Banners ass up. Now." He heard Tony growl.

Bucky sunk to his knees, his sweatpants become stained with the blood soaked water that had sloshed over the edge. "Y/N." He muttered. She was pale. Too pale. "Y/N!" He yelled grabbing her by the shoulders. “Open your fucking eyes and look at me!" You didn't open her eyes, the only movement was coming from your chest. You were taking quick short breaths, which Bucky figured wasn't good. "Please don't do this to me, please. I need you, fuck-" He choked back a sob.

"Buck, we have to get her down to-" Before Sam could finish his sentence, Bucky was lifting you out of the water and took off towards the med bay.

Banner was already down there, a suturing kit already laid out. "How much blood has she lost?" He asked immediately as soon as Bucky came barreling through the doorway.

"A lot." Was all he could manage. He carefully laid you down on the cot. His thoughts were going a mile a minute. You were supposed to be getting better. Sam and Banner were supposed to be helping you, the therapy was supposed to be helping. Not killing you. Why wasn’t it helping? Why were you so selfish? How could you do that to us? To me, to Steve. To this whole team?

"Well good thing most of the team is A Positive so we have some on standby for her." Banner said. Bucky wasn't sure if he was talking to him or to himself.

Banner flushed out your wounds with what looked like water, and carefully began to stitch you up. Bucky noticed the slight shaking in his wrist and he pulled your skin together.

"Where is Steve?" Bucky whispered to Tony, not taking his eyes off of Y/N and Banner. For once, you looked like you were at peace. Your features were smoothed and relaxed, nothing like your previous state.

"His teams on their way back. ETA 4 hours." Tony whispered back.

A heavy silence fell over the med bay. Bucky felt drained. He couldn't keep his thought straight in his head, and it was numbing. He just kept asking the same thing. Why? You were doing so good. You were laughing, smiling, and actually making progress to talk to people outside your comfort zone. Of course you were still having night terrors, Sam said those wouldn't go away for a long time. But other than that you were fine. You said you were fine. He couldn't understand why.

Banner was done with one side. He moved over to the other and began to repeat the process, but one of the machines she was hooked up to began beeping rapidly. His head snapped up and his brows furrowed.

"Friday do a full body scan please." He grunted.

"What? What's wrong?" Bucky pleaded, his skin tightening and his stomach doing loops.

"Blood pressure is dropping. Not good." Was all he heard over the several machines firing at once.

"There is hemorrhaging. Location: uterus." Friday said back. "Surgery is recommended."

Banner quickly finished the last of the sutures and yanked your water and blood soaked sweatpants off. There was a large amount of blood pooling in between your legs.

"Bruce what is that?" Bucky yelled rushing over to them. "What's wrong with her, did she stab herself there?" He felt like he was going to vomit.

"Bucky-" He started as he fumbled with some tubing.

"What are you doing to her?!" Bucky yelled again his voice become more and more distressed. "You're gonna kill her please help her!"

"Tony get him the hell out of here!" Banner screamed finally, the Hulks voice peaking behind his anger and frustration.

Bucky was being yanked out of the bay by Sam and Tony. He could fight back easily, fight them off so he could be with you. But his legs were so shaky he could hardly stand on his own two feet. The windows that looked into the bay dimmed and Bucky caught one last look as Banner yanked down Y/N's underwear. A sob escaped from Buckys lips as he crumpled to the ground. What was happening now? Y/N must be so scared. He was so scared.

He felt that hot tears prick at his cheeks and dribbled down into his beard hair. He was crying. Crying for the first time in who knows how long. He couldn't loose you. You were the only one who truly understood Bucky. You meant too much to him.

"Buck-" Sam started but Bucky just cut him off.

"Leave me alone." He sobbed. It felt like a metal pipe had been shoved down Buckys throat. He couldn’t breathe. "Please just go away." Tony and Sam shared a look before the disappeared down the hallway.

He sat there for what seemed like days. But it was only hours. Soon enough Steve came jogging down the hallway to where Bucky sat.

"Buck." Steve gasped, kneeling down next to him. "What happened?"

"I thought she was having a night terrors." Bucky's voice was raw and it hurt to swallow. The crying must have stopped hours ago, but he couldn't remember when it ended. "But she locked me out. Tried to...tried to..."

"Oh god." Steve whimpered, understanding what he was saying. “Is she...?" Bucky shook his head.

"She started bleeding. I think Banners still doing surgery." Steve's face was screwed tightly together as he stood back up. Bucky couldn't tell what he was feeling. He paced the hallway for a bit before he slid down against the wall across from Bucky, his eyes blankly staring at the door. He could see the trembling in his chest when he inhaled.

They sat there in silence for about another hour, when suddenly, the doors to the med bay swung open. Banners eyes fell on them. He sighed heavily and put his hands in his pockets.

"What? What is it?" Bucky pleaded getting to his feet, which caused Steve to stand up.

"Is she okay?" Steve asked, his brows closely knit together.

"Yeah. She's stable. Woke up for a few minutes but she's sleeping now. I had to give her some medicine to calm her down. And I had to..." He trailed off. "Restrain her. She's very agitated." Bruce exhaled and wrung his hands together.

"Then what happened? Why did you have to do surgery." Bucky prodded. He could tell Banner was hiding something.

"The bleeding was caused by a mixture of shock and her blood pressure tanking. I couldn't-" He cleared his throat like he was keeping back tears. "I couldn't save the fetus. She miscarried."

It felt like someone had punched Bucky in the gut. Fetus? Miscarried? She was pregnant?

"From what I could tell she was about 15 weeks along. I ran the DNA because I wasn't...I wasn't sure who the father was."

"I had a child?" Steve whimpered. Tears were falling freely down his face.

"No, Steve.” He whispered softly. “Bucky, it was yours.”

"What? No. That's impossible." Steve scoffed. "You must have your science shit mixed up. There is no way."

"No, he's right." Bucky whispered, absolute shocking talking grip of his body.

"I'm sorry. It was a boy."

"What? No. No! It's wrong. Go test it again Banner! I know it's wrong!"

"Steve-"

"You were fucking her?!" Steve screamed, turning to Bucky. "You knew I was in love with her and you were fucking her?!"

"It was once Steve! Almost 3 months ago! We were drunk and you were away on a mission and I came onto her!" Bucky bargained, staring into the flames of his best friend’s eyes.

"You fucked my girl! My girl!" Steve was irate, barely able to contain himself.

"She isn't yours Steve, you're not even together!"

"I told her that I loved her! And you went and fucked her anyway! What, do you always follow your dick!? I bet that's why she refuses to look at you!"

"No, she told me that she loved me!" Bucky screamed back, his voice echoing in the hallway as silence washed over them. Bucky took a deep breath. "She said it first. And I told her it was a mistake and should be with you." He said quietly.

Steve let out an animalistic growl, and his fist made contact with the side of Bucky's cheek and the back of his head smashed against the wall.

"I love you Bucky." Y/N's soft voice said. Your head was currently buried in Bucky's bare chest. "It's you. It's always has been." You whispered.

Bucky reached down and cupped her cheek, making you look at him. He has been waiting to hear that since they first met. He didn't believe in love at first sight but ever since he first laid eyes on you, he started to believe.

"You don't mean that, doll." He muttered back. Alcohol was still running its course through their bodies. "You're drunk."

"Drunk words are a sober mans thoughts."

"Y/N-"

"I want you Bucky. Just you. No more going back and forth between you and Steve. I can't do that anymore, Bucky. Please believe me." You pleaded, your large eyes staring into his.

"You deserve someone like Steve, not like me. You can't love me." He sighed, letting go of your face.

"I love Steve. He’s amazing and kind, but I love I have for him isn’t like how I love you.”

"No. You love the thought of me." He snapped, rising off the bed. "But you don't love me Y/N. I promise you, you don't. You shouldn't." He gathered his clothes from the floor and shimmied into them. He reached the door and stopped at the sound of your voice.

"But-" Bucky winced at the sound of your voice as it was filling with tears.

"I'm sorry." He whispered turning away, his own eyes brimming with tears. "I don't deserve you. You can't love me. I'm sorry."

part 2

[delimeful]

taking the fall (3)

warnings: imprisonment, interrogation, injury, mild blood, panic and sensory overload, dehumanizing language, ambiguous motives, morally neutral/antagonistic janus, snakes mention

-

His guest wasn’t eating.

Janus cast an irritated glance over to the terrarium, where the only “life” that could be seen was a clump of thick foliage in one corner.

He’d left the old fake plants in there as a taunt, but as soon as the tiny creature had ascertained that there were no snakes in the grass, they’d immediately bundled every bit of shiny plastic greenery into a makeshift nest and hid within it. He supposed he should have expected it, from one as industrious as these tiny folk all seemed to be.

Regardless of his guest’s reticence, he’d been setting small dishes of food in there whenever he himself took his meals, giving them some time to adjust to the reality of their situation. It had been a couple of days, however, and every miniature entree looked entirely untouched.

His prisoner seemed to be on a hunger strike.

It added more evidence to his theory that he was being misled in regards to his guest’s identity. If they were actually a victim in all this, why bother keeping quiet and refusing to give the answers Janus needed? Why go so far as to not even eat, for people who allegedly wouldn’t care if he lived or died?

No, things made much more sense if this was a gambit on the tiny people’s part, one of them volunteering to stay and play sacrificial lamb, distracting him for as long as the others needed. Their terror, their injury, their tiny bitter laugh, it could all be part of a ploy for pity on his end. Get him too invested in a puzzling prisoner while the others escaped.

The thought made his stomach drop unpleasantly. His opponents were exceedingly small, and he was one of the few who knew they existed. If they got away, he’d never see them again.

He couldn’t afford that.

Pushing his chair back, he approached the terrarium, casting an assessing eye over the food set out in it. Some of it could sit out, and had been there overnight, the best time for his guest to eat without risking even seeing Janus. But no. Not a single crumb out of place to indicate that anything had been eaten.

“Still alive?” he asked dryly, rapping a knuckle on the glass once.

There was a long pause, and then one of the leafy stems sticking out from the nest twitched twice. This daily question and response was the only communication he’d had with his guest since that first afternoon, and even this small, silent answer had originally been prompted by a threat of Janus reaching in there and checking himself.

“I notice that you’ve been refusing any sustenance,” he continued idly, and got nothing for his efforts. “Planning to die before you can give up any secrets?”

No response. Janus sighed as though put upon, and slid the terrarium lid halfway off. There were still no meaningful movements from the nest, though it seemed to be subtly trembling. It was impressive that despite the dark clothing that his guest wore, he still couldn’t make out exactly where they were even this close.

With narrowed eyes, he reached in and grabbed a few of the plastic leaves, tugging to pull the construction apart bit by bit.

He only caught the faintest flicker of movement before there was a sudden sharp pain in his index finger, and he yanked his hand back on reflex.

A weight came up with it, putting even more pressure on his wound, and it dropped as soon as his hand was just above the terrarium lid.

Seeing the dark shape attempting to scramble away, his other hand smacked down on top of it automatically, pressing it into the mesh with a small, muffled cry.

He glanced at his hand. There was a plastic thorn hooked in his thumb, the broad end chewed off and the point of it sharpened. His guest had attacked and used him as a makeshift lift in their escape attempt.

“Oh,” he intoned, voice dark. “Seems like you have plenty of energy after all, hm?”

---

Virgil took in short, gasping breaths, barely able to hear whatever threatening thing the human was muttering as pain radiated through his leg.

It let up just slightly as the pressure of the hand on top of him eased, his face no longer pressed into the cold wire netting of the cage’s top. Before he could try and string two thoughts together, the fingers were curling around him like a hawk’s talons, lifting him up and sending another jolt of mind-numbing pain through him. He might have whimpered.

So much for that escape attempt. He’d known it was a long shot, but his options had been limited after realizing that he literally couldn’t stand on the injured leg any more. They’d dwindled further with every day he couldn’t bring himself to crawl over to any food or water. Living outside, he’d survived on very little before, but it was a gamble every time.

He was flipped to face the light, the human’s head in silhouette above him. He couldn't make out it’s words. Everything felt overwhelming, made incomprehensible by the pain and the dark spots in his vision. His face felt hot. Was he bleeding?

Things went blissfully quiet above him, and then he was being moved. He wondered if the human was about to kill him, and the thought sent a much weaker pulse of panic down his spine than usual. He hoped it killed borrowers before feeding them to it’s snakes.

Something soft and dark dropped over him, and he thrashed for a moment before his leg reminded him how awful an idea that was. So he laid still instead, letting his terror shake through him in waves, until he wasn’t completely lost to it anymore.

Slowly, he lifted a hand, feeling at what was draped over him. Cloth, soft in texture and tightly-knit enough that not much light got through. Below him… a warm, living surface.

“Awake?” the human said, voice both closer and quieter than he’d ever heard it.

Another shudder worked through him, and he reached up to press his hands over his face, wishing none of this was real. His eye pigment had run, drying in tracks down his cheeks.

He wouldn’t be able to reapply it. The locket he stored it in was left behind with the rest of his stuff, tucked away into his oversized pack and left at the opening into the human’s home. It had probably already been torn through and picked apart by Mari and the other insiders.

The thought stung, somehow more personal than the nightmare of the situation he was already in.

“I believe I see now why you haven’t eaten,” the human continued with a surprising lack of snark. It must have seen his leg. He felt a little sick just thinking about it.

What had felt like a low-grade fracture through the adrenaline had ended up growing worse and worse without treatment, until the injury was a solid lump of swollen flesh and ugly bruising that twanged with agony at even the slightest shifts. He wondered if the human was going to use it against him. It would make torture exceedingly easy on its part.

“Continue with the silent treatment, and you won’t get any actual treatment,” it said, now sounding exasperated.

After another stretch of silence, the hand beneath him moved and tilted, sliding him off onto a flat surface. Suddenly desperate to know what was going on, Virgil yanked at the cloth, dragging handfuls of it down until he reached an edge and could pull it clear of his eyes.

The light in this room was dimmer, but it still took him a moment to adjust. He wasn’t in a snake tank, but on top of a low table in what looked like a sitting room, if he remembered the human terms right. The human was seated on the couch nearby, looking down at him.

“There you are.”

---

The tiny person shot him a furious glare, rendered mostly ineffective by the dark tear streaks that were still smudged along their face.

Janus wished his earlier reflexes had been a little gentler. He’d had a quite embarrassing moment of panic where he’d thought the grotesque worsening of their leg injury had been caused by his grasp, rather than simple neglect and lack of treatment.

Despite his patience, they didn’t reply, continuing to just stare at him. He stood, ignoring the way it instantly made them begin trembling again.

“I’ll be back in a moment. Feel free to move around and make your injury worse,” he instructed dryly, before turning and going to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom.

His thumb was still sensitive, the injury messily scabbed over with dried blood. He’d pried the thorn out with his teeth easily enough, but with his other hand occupied by a prone tiny person and their hyperventilation fit, he couldn’t properly treat it.

Upon his return, he saw his guest had abandoned his handkerchief and was halfway to the edge of the table. He rolled his eyes, and set the kit down before grabbing them by the shoulders and sliding them back over to the handkerchief.

“I was being sarcastic, you know,” he told them, and opened the kit to start cleaning his undersized injury. “I’ll be very unhappy if my only source of information dies a completely avoidable death for no reason.”

“Yeah, because I sure wouldn’t want to make you unhappy,” his guest bit out, and then looked as though they were deeply and immediately regretting opening their mouth. Janus didn’t know why; he personally took much better to sass than being stabbed.

“So you do know how sarcasm works. Color me impressed.”

The tiny person actually hissed at him, like the world’s most emo kitten.

“Yes, yes, I feel very threatened,” Janus retaliated by prodding them with the edge of an open tube of arnica gel. “Here. For the bruising.”

After another long glare, his guest spoke. “What do you want for it?”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t it be argued that I owe it to you, for allowing the injury to fester while you’re in my care?”

“Your care--!” his guest cut themself off, taking in a deep breath through gritted teeth. “Terrible hosting etiquette aside, you weren’t the one who gave me the injury. Not your concern. So, what do you want?”

Janus wondered absently how tiny people qualified their hosts’ manners. He had certainly already failed by human standards, immediately imprisoning his guest and all, so perhaps it didn’t really matter either way. He wasn’t above taking advantage of a tiny person’s bartering honor system. “Answer three questions.”

“I get to pass on questions I don’t want to answer,” his guest countered quickly, apparently having expected this.

“You get five passes,” Janus allowed. Seeing what they refused to answer would be informative in itself.

“... Fine.” With another glance at their injury, they grabbed the tube sharply enough that they almost overbalanced. “Ask.”

“Where are the others living?” Janus asked, just to set the stakes high.

“Pass,” his guest answered, not even looking up from their task. Janus rolled his eyes.

“Why are you defending them?” he tried.

“I’m not defending them,” they shot back, vitriol thick in their voice. “I just don’t want you to get what you want. That’s one question.”

“Ouch. I’m hurt, really.” Janus tapped his nails along the table idly. “What’s your name and pronouns?”

This did prompt them to look up, face pinching up in confusion. After a moment, they returned to their baseline expression of scowl and retorted, “That’s two questions.”

“It’s one sentence, it counts as one question,” Janus lied smugly. They still looked close to passing, so he gave them a nudge. “Unless you want me to make something up? I’m very creative, I assure you.”

“I use he,” he finally grit out, “and you can call me V.”

“For Vendetta?” Janus mused, and received an utterly baffled look for his wit. “I suppose your movie repertoire isn’t that expansive.”

“Two questions,” V said flatly. “One left.”

“Yes, I can count.” Janus glanced at V’s gel-covered leg. “You have to rub that in for it to work.”

V’s expression flickered to one of despair, but he bit his lip and started to slowly massage the gel in. Janus wondered at how easily he’d believed him.

“What do you call yourselves?”

“Pass.”

“Where did you live?”

“Pass.”

“How do I bait the others out?”

“Pass.”

“Why do you hate me more than the ones who allegedly put you here?”

V’s hand slipped, and he winced and paused for a moment. “... Pass.”

There was certainly a grudge there. Too bad Janus had no idea what it could be about. Oh well.

He set a hand on the table, leaning over V. “When do the others plan to leave? As specific as you can get, please.”

“Pa--,” V cut himself off, and Janus could see the moment he realized he had used up all his get-out-of-questioning-free cards. He patiently waited out the tiny person’s fit of frustration.

“... I don’t know.” Janus’s smug grin dropped, but V continued after a speculative pause. “I don’t think they’ll leave before the season's turning. The spring thaw has been slow this year, and they’re-- not suited for it.”

Janus felt some of the tension drop from his shoulders. The start of summer. He had time, and the advantage of a weather forecast app. That was good news, even if he’d had to wrangle it out of his guest. He had time.

“How interesting,” he said lightly, and capped the gel to put it back in the box. V’s hands were clutching the edge of his coat tightly, as though guilty or angry. Or perhaps just stressed. “Let’s get some food in actual range of you, then, shall we?”