#i am doing everything in my power to not lock myself in my room and throw my phone out the window today

[brokenhardies]

.

[idkfitememate]

I really like your stories, especially about the Creator otter. It would be great if when the truth is known, they take the Creator otter to the "true creator" and when he tries to hurt the otter, the attack returns on its own or something happens. to prevent him from harming the beautiful otter and so it is known that he is the true creator, I imagine he would have many more pamperings than before

The Otter Chronicles Pt.3

⋘ Previous Part » ♡︎

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Otter Reader x Fontaine

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 2.2k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Angst, some fluff, many mental breakdowns

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I. Am. So. Sorry. You have been waiting for months for this but I didn’t know how to continue and then I got writers block and UGH-

But I’m here now :). And your gonna get your wish :3

Future note, this will probably be split up into at least one more chapter because I know for a fact I won’t be able to write all the idea, plus, I have an idea on how to finish it!!~~

As you snoozed peacefully, the quiet seemed to seep into the room, suffocating everyone within it.

“So… the otter sat on your lap… sleeping… that’s the creator?” Finally, Wriothesley broke the silence that had consumed the room, making Furina jump and you chitter under your breath, snuggling into her stomach.

“Do we have any proof?- I mean, besides what happened with the Primordial Sea-“ “Do you need more evidence?” Neuvillette interrupted. His face was stern and cold, hands gripping at his pants.

“Well… it’d be nice to at least know for certain?” Wirothesley sighed out, a hand pressing to his forehead. He leans forward in his seat and took a breath before speaking again. “I mean, genuinely, can’t you see where I’m coming from? Sure, you might trust your gut or whatever magical power you’re keeping from us, but this is a little hard to believe for a guy like me. I mean, who knows! Maybe it was coincidence the Primordial Sea went back into the lock!! Because I’ve personally never seen a creature besides a human jump in there, have you? Maybe it’s all just one big joke I just-“ He stopped, huffing, hands shaking.

“I… we gave our everything… to the Creator. And now I’m finding out it was all a lie? If it’s true, and they really are THE Creator… then I’ve just been lying to myself?? That everything I’ve went through, every trial I’ve faced, every man I’ve stared down as we sent him to his death, every challenged I’ve faced… that i convinced myself that I would get through for them… that it was just a test to prove my worth… my loyalty… would it be for nothing..? I’ve…” The man stood up, chair knocking back behind him as he rose, tears staining his cheeks. Neuvillette also stood, putting a hand in front of Furina. Chlorinde simply sat with hands drawn to her lap.

“I’ve devoted my LIFE to them!! I’ve given my EVERYTHING to THEM!! I thought… I THOUGHT… I THOUGHT THAT THEY WOULD SAVE ME FROM THIS DAMNNATION OF SOULS GRIPPPING TO MY CHEST, CRYING OUT THAT I COULDNT SAVE THEM!! MY SIBLINGS, MEN I KNEW COULDNT HAVE BEEN GUILTY AND AND- YOU WANT TO SAY ITS ALL BEEN FOR NOTHING?!?” “CALM YOURSELF WIROTHESLEY!-“ “NO! BECAUSE THIS IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS!”

A shouting match began between the two men, Chlorinde jumped up and wrapped herself around a now shaking Furina who was about to cry again, holding your form close to her chest. As the men screamed at each other - and teacups started being thrown - you finally stirred, opening bleary eyes at the scene unveiling before you.

Why were people screaming..? What… You looked up to see Furina shaking and silently sobbing over you, Chlorinde hushing her and whispering into her ear, though you couldn’t hear what she was saying. Wriggling around enough to face the shouting, your eyes widened at the sight of Neuvillette and Wirothesley screeching at each other, both Visions glowing wildly at the emotions of their wielders.

It was getting to a point where your ears were starting to hurt, so you leapt of Futuna’s lap, which led to her and Chlorinde whipping their heads to you, and ran over to the shouting men. You didn’t know what had come over you, seeing them both fight - something you never thought you would’ve witnessed honestly - and ran between them paws raised. Both paused for only a second, before Wirothesley started arguing again and Neuvillette followed. You tried to chitter and call over both of them, not getting anywhere with their raised voices.

You took a deep breath, focusing. This had been something you wanted to try since the beginning but just never had the time nor the energy to do so. But if there ever was a time, now was it. Your brows furrowed as you focused on any and all water in the current room, imagining the water following your command, as though alive and you its master. You grunted, catching Furina’s attention as she called for you to come back.

Cups suddenly started shaking in the room, only the Archon and Dualist taking note. It also didn’t help that the entire building was surrounded by water, though luckily you were able to mostly focus your attention on the small bits of water in the room. Neither Wriothesley or Neuvillette stopped to look at you as you raised your little paws to your head, the shouting mixed with your focus bringing on a headache.

Finally, it came to a close when Wriothesley shouted at the top of his lungs; teacups shattered and liquid swirled around the room, tea and water and otherwise swimming around the room like a raging typhoon, slamming into walls and knocking over objects. Finally the Duke and Sovereign stopped looking just as shocked as the Duelist and Archon. You pressed your paws forward, all the liquid slamming onto the arguing duo, pushing them into wall on opposite sides of the room.

Neuvillette looked remorseful while Wriothesley was shocked, eyes as wide as possible and jaw slacked. After a moment of silence you dropped your paws, allowing the two to fall to the floor drenched and standing in puddles.

“Holy… Holy Shit. They are the…” Wriothesley looked towards Neuvillette who nodded. Wriothesley fell to his knees, hands gripping at his hair and tears filling his eyes.

“All my life… was a lie?” You rushed to his side before he could spiral, rapidly chittering and crying, wishing you could speak so you could comfort him. In fear of another argument you began to cry. You sniffled and placed paws on his arm, practically begging him not to fall down that dark hole of spiraling thoughts.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your head. Fingers gently carded through your fur, and you looked up, meeting Wriothesley’s eyes. They were still teary, filled with grief and sorrow, but there was something behind it, something bright.

“Mm… don’t cry little guy. I didn’t mean to uh… scare you?” His smile was shaky at best. You whined and climbed into his lap, paws pressed to his cheeks and small kitten-licks to the tears he evidently didn’t know about, rubbing away any others you couldn’t get. His eyes widened, quickly trying to rub away any stray tears he caught.

The others watched the scene, not daring to speak. Eventually Wriothesley picked you up to stare at you. All his life had been spent worshiping one person, they fell from the sky one day, and he figured that’d be it. He got live in the generation that saw the return of their blessed Creator. Never to have them look him in the eye or anything.

But here you were. An otter. And you had already done so much more for him than the Creator had in such a short amount of time.

It would take a while, he figured, till his mind really did say that you were, in fact, the real and true Creator, till his mind could finally let go of the notion that he’d never get to see them because here you were, in his arms, caring for him.

“… Y’know… you’re a pretty cute little otter.” Everyone’s eyes snapped over to him when he spoke, more tears falling from his eyes. You squirmed around, desperately trying to get close enough to wipe them but were caught off-guard when instead Wriothesley wiped tears out of your eyes.

You cried, squirming in his arms to wrap your own around his neck. Everyone was silent as this happened, watching as his arms gently curled around you, slowly breaking down.

Neuvillette turned away, ashamed that he had lost his cool, and watched as Furina got up from the couch and walked over to you and Wriothesley. She couched down and sat beside you both, laying a head on Wriothesley’s shoulder.

You chirped quietly into the mana chest, letting him silently sob into you.

Only the sound of moving water disrupted the calm.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍯🧁🥥୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

That meeting was weeks ago, and now your little group was coming up with a plan to bring this news to light before all the other nations.

It had been well established to them that creatures of Teyvat, from small bugs to the largest beast, would all listen to you under any and all circumstances.

Like now.

While they all spoke under the moonlight inside Wriothesley’s office - one of the most secretive places in all of Fontaine - you swam just outside the walls in a raft of otters, all in all just having a fun time until the inevitable.

The rebellion.

Naturally everyone in the room was pissed, especially since it had been years at this point that that false ‘Creator’ had sat on a throne that was rightfully yours. They could see the effect your presence had on Fontiane.

The sun shone brighter, the water seemed clearer, less Meka broke down, flower bloomed easier, crime even dropped. It was great.

Everyone and everything seemed and felt happier.

Much happier than with that fucking liar.

A map of the large, floating Sanctuary and Shrine that was supposed to house the Creator was laid out across a table, specific entry point circled in red.

“Next week marks the beginning of the *Creator’s Walk. Defenses will grow as this week passes but the first day of the walk, there will be no Acolytes.” Neuvillette broke the silence by pointing towards the circles on the map.

“But they’ll still be in the perimeter. I should know, I was apart of the last Creator’s Walk.” Chlorinde spoke up, adjusting her hat. “I can’t think of any entrance we may have left ungraded, even if from a distance.”

They were silent as they thought. The Creator’s walk was a Month Long holiday where the Creator would walk nation to nation - by themselves - in order to hand out blessings, push back monsters for a following month of no attacks and to retrace their original path between Nations, a show that they were all still connected.

The quiet was broken by the sounds of you chittering, the door opening and revealing you wrapped in a Melusine themed towel, Sigewinne trailing right behind you.

“Thank you Sigewinne for returning them to us, now if you would mind-“ Neuvillette started but was interrupted by the Melusine, “You’re talking about the plan right?” Everyone stared at her while you took it upon yourself to climb into Furina’s lap.

“How did-�� “Uh, duh. I’ve known all along? I would’ve figured you’d have guessed that by now, especially with all the other Melusine and Meka treating them so great? Come on Monsieur Neuvillette, you’re smarter than that!” The sentence was ended with a giggle as she skipped over to the still shocked older man.

Neuvillette shook himself from the sudden stupor, sighing and nodded, before his eyes lit up.

“That’s right. We have all the Meka of Fontaine on our side. They’d do anything for ma moitié. How in Archons name did we forget we have an entire army on our side?” Everyone stared at Neuvillette sheepishly, shrugs and mutters filling the room. Neuvillette sighs and hangs his head, but quickly rebounds.

“Well in that case, most Nations haven’t fought our Meka-“ “But they have fought Ruin Guards.” Chlorinde spoke again. Neuvillette bit his cheek, she had a point. While Meka were different, it wouldn’t take to much the Acolytes to find weaknesses due to said Ruin Guards.

Silence again.

“The Local Legends and beasts alike could be of use. I mean, I doubt anyone’s fought giant crabs before.” Furina mentioned, though most of her attention was on you, drying you off and petting you.

“That is true, Lady Furina.” Wriothesley agreed. Eyes drew back to the map, taking in every spot on the thing.

“There!” Sigewinne was the one to point to a point on the map, near the back to the left of the large estate.

“What’s the spot?” She asked, Wriothesley took one look and responded.

“That’s a window to their wine cellar. Pretty unused but still guarded, why?” Sigewinne looked up with a grin.

“Because it’s closest to a body of water.” Chlorinde looked closely at the spot, and her eyes widened a bit.

“She has a point, and on top of that, while it is still guarded it’s much more lax, especially considering it’s not to far from where the ‘Creator’ will be leaving but far enough where anyone would doubt an entry. On the other hand, it could only appear that way.”

“That’s where Meka and monsters could come in.” Wriothesley started. “When we’re protecting the place we more expect other people than monsters considering they’re all scared of the place.”

The plan started to come together, more pieces being added and who should go first and so on and so forth. Furina was too busy playing with you to really care, but looked up with a confused expression.

“When are we going to tell the others? Vision users, I mean. And… how?” Everyone looked towards her.

“…Fuck.” And a new can of worms now needed to be opened.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : IM SO FUCKING SORRY I CANT DO IT!! I swear I will be keeping this idea in mind tho because I now have a plan to map out all of the creator stories I swear it I’m just tired omg I’m sorry but I hope this suffices for now-

… This is so disappointing I’m sorry-

[mingi-s-dimples]

OH EM GEEEE I LOVE YOUR FICS SO SO MUCH (be prepared to see me often hihi) can I request:

hongjoong x wooyoung x reader ? Preferably smut :D maybe where reader keeps annoying wj and hj and they teach her a little lesson AHHHH I love them so so much:(((

Can I be 💭 anon? :]

game over - topaz

REQUEST BY: 💭

pairing: best friends!topaz x fem!reader

rating: 18+

genre: non idol au, smut (lil filth)

summary: you and your boy best friends were playing video games in the living room, but you might have teased them.. a bit too much to their liking.

WC: 2.2k

warnings: wooyoung is a fucking brat (everyone knows this), bratty!reader, woo is teaching reader a lesson for cheating in the game, joong joining in, 3some, creampie, oral (both m&f), handjob, blowjob, sucking off, cum (lots), overstim, squirting, nipple sucking, big dick!topaz, joong is a lil bit confused at first, teasing, unprotected (wrap up irl!), completely consensual!, unedited, I'm sure I forgot something. edit: lil bit of pet names and some degradation? (fucker, slut)

Author's Note: MUAHHAHA 👹👹 I loved writing this pfffff. Thank you SO much anon for requesting this, had so much fun with it. I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG I WAS SO BUSY WITH LIFE AND BACK TO SCHOOL THINGS 😭. I'll do better I promise. Topaz brainrot is EVERYTHING please send me more topaz requests. I hope I fulfilled your expectations, 💭! (send me an ask with your opinion HAHAHAH) love youuu (I am aware it's not necessarily Joong being annoyed by her cheating in the game but he joined in so he was equally annoyed HAHAHAH but he didn't show it -> this eas my view of Joong) -> I still don't feel like I put my whole power and creativity in but I promise y'all won't be disappointed with the kinktober requests 👹)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent the members in any way.

The living room was filled with the sounds of explosions, rapid gunfire, and the excited shouts of my two boy best friends, Wooyoung and Hongjoong. We were all huddled on the couch, controllers in hand, locked in an intense battle in our favorite video game. The stakes were high, and I could feel their determination radiating off them as they tried to outmaneuver each other—and me.

But little did they know, I had a secret weapon. A sly smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I casually pressed a hidden button combination, activating a cheat code I’d discovered online. Instantly, my character leapt ahead in the game, dodging bullets and landing impossible headshots with ease.

"Hey, how are you so good all of a sudden?" Wooyoung complained, glancing over at me suspiciously. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes, clearly sensing something was off. I just shrugged, trying to hide my grin.

"Oh, you know," I replied nonchalantly, "Just skill."

They groaned in unison as I racked up another win, not letting on that I was secretly cheating. Winning felt great, but the real fun was seeing their frustrated faces every time they lost to me. I couldn't help but laugh as Wooyoung threw his hands up in exasperation and he muttered something about "beginner's luck."

If only they knew the truth—that their unbeatable friend wasn’t quite as fair as they thought. You absolutely loved teasing them, the frustrated looks on their faces were amusing you so bad. But in a moment of focusing on your game, you did a thoughtless move, Wooyoung seeing your hand nibbling at the controller.

"You fucker" he shouted. "ARE YOU CHEATING!?"

"NO! WHY WOULD I CHEAT." you said, trying to excuse yourself.

"Woo, it's not the first time I've seen her. Though, I kept it to myself, it was really fun to see her win" Hongjoong said, almost unbothered by the situation.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!" Woo said, frustrated. "Goddamn, you fucked all my stats with your cheating. STOP IT!"

"You'd have to make me, tho."

oh.

"What did you just say, y/n?" Joong exhaled, surprised at your words.

"Exactly what you heard. Do you want me to repeat? Y'all would need to make me stop cheating. Whatever it takes, I'm pretty unbothered, tho"

Wooyoung threw his controller on the coffee table and approached you. He pushed you on the sofa, scanning you from head to toe. He sat on the sofa, his right knee between your legs.

"Say it again."

"No"

"Say. It. Again."

"Make me stop cheating at your little stupid game, you fucker."

"Now that's what I wanted to hear."

Hongjoong came behind Woo and he pushed him away from you. Both you and the younger looked at him confused, but you both suddenly realised the two of you know something he doesn't.

"What!? It's not like I haven't fucked her already."

fuck.

"Joong, you better decide now if you wanna join or look. It's up to you."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN Y'ALL FUCKED!?" the older man shouted, worried about the situation at first.

"Like I just said, it's not the first time. Now, go away if you don't wanna join. Though, this little slut might actually like the two of us at the same time. I need to teach her a lesson" Wooyoung said, spreading your legs apart with his knee, pressing on your thigh.

But Hongjoong didn't back off. In fact, he came closer, looking contently at what Wooyoung was doing. Now.. you've never been completely honest with Joong. You and Wooyoung have been fucking for a while whenever you teased him one time too much in a day, and he always fucked you dumb as a punishment. Though.. was it really a punishment?

You were looking at the two men approaching you. Wooyoung was already working on your clothes. He started by slowly taking off your shirt, leaving you in only your bra. He then tugged a bit at your shorts, giving Hongjoong a nod to come closer. The younger moved away from you for a moment, letting Joong take the lead and he took off the shorts, revealing the wet spot on your panties.

"What a slut. Already? Were you perhaps getting wet only at the thought of me fucking you if you teased me, hm? Is that right? Come here you little fucker" Wooyoung said and pulled you closer, one hand under your ass and one on your waist. He lifted you and went to his bedroom, where he dropped you off on the bed. The sheets got wrinkly and as you backed off to the headboard, Hongjoong took of his shirt. He was.. hot. Hot as fuck. Whenever you saw him without a shirt, or going to take a shower in only his briefs something in you made you want to crawl on the walls. But seeing him like that.. undressing for you, riled you up in a way only Wooyoung had ever did.

"Now.. what should I do with you, mm?" the younger said, approaching you. He pushed your hands above the headboard, holding them in place with one of his hands. His other hand went down on your body, and while he started planting soft, sloppy kisses, his hand reached your inner thigh, finding it's way to your dripping core. His kisses trailed from your neck and to your collarbones, where he left dark, purple marks. Then as his fingers started slowly rubbing on your folds, he stood up and sat between your legs, looking back at Hongjoong who was, waiting for a sign from Woo. That was the sign.

He undressed himself almost completely, being left in his briefs, from which a huge bulge could be seen. His cock was straining against the fabric, threatening to spring out at any moment.

"Now... baby. Who do you want first?" Woo scoffed.

"Both"

"Ohh, so you wanted this to happen, hm?" the younger said as he spread your legs out once again for the night and gave you soft kisses on your thighs, then within one move of his hand you were left bare in front of him, dripping on the linen. "What was going through that little mind of yours? Did you want both of us fucking you?"

"Y-yes" you mumbled, shivers being sent up your spine as he was now fingers deep in you, hitting all your sweet spots. You were squirming under him, his body pressed onto yours, but it didn't last long. He went down on you, licked his fingers and started eating you out. His tongue riled you up so bad, you started gripping the sheets to not squirm under him too much. He hated that, cause he couldn't eat you out how he wanted. He loved tasting every inch of you, feeling up your insides and sucking on your clit. Everything he did made you eventually move, to which he bit your inner thigh for a short second and held you down even more forcefully.

Hongjoong was also helping himself in the background, you were watching him contently between all your whimpers and moans. He was lazily stroking his length, waiting for an opportunity to jump in. Though, you didn't let him wait too long as you nodded to him.

"Come here, don't stand b-by yourself" your breath hitching from all that was happening between your legs. You murmured, "Let me h-help you" and as he was close enough to you, your hand started pumping him. The view he had was marvelous, you were being eaten out by Woo and he was stroked by your little hand, but little did he know it was about to get better. He let out some soft whimpers and as you pumped him two more times, you pulled him closer by his thigh and took his dick in your mouth. His cock was girthy, he was stretching your mouth good. At first, you slowly sucked on his tip, licking up his length from the base to the shaft. He didn't even know where to put his hands, in the end he rested one on your head, slowly guiding you to suck him properly. You gave the tip soft kisses then went all out and took his dick up your throat, slowly choking on it. You could hear him hold his moans back, but as your own moans were muffled by his dick deep down your throat, he could feel them revrebrate through his body. You could see how he was close to finishing, but you couldn't properly focus on him at the given moment.

"You taste so good, babe" Wooyoung whispered, and as his finger went to your clit and started rubbing it, you let out a loud moan, at which Hongjoong came undone in your mouth, surprising you. You slurped everything up and sucked him off for a short second to gather all the cum dripping from his tip and you swallowed, looking him in the eyes.

Wooyoung looked up to see why you were moving so much, to which he was greeted by the sight of you now sloppily kissing Joong, the position you were in not being the best. He saw the cum stains on your hand.

"Haha, it didn't take him that long to finish. Aren't you such a little slut, hm?" Wooyoung said and as he pumped his fingers inside of you a few more times and rubbed your clit, you creamed on his fingers beautifully, to which he sucked your juices off his hand once again.

"Now.."

"Joong.. please come here. Baby, what do you think about being fucked by both, hm?" Wooyoun said as he lifted and put you on his now bare dick, his back leaned on the headboard. "Tell me. What do you say?"

"P-please, Woo... Joong. I want b-both of you"

"Good girl. You didn't have a choice, anyways."

As he lined his length to your dripping cunt, Hongjoong also climbed on the bed and got a hold of your leg, pulling himself close to you.

"Babe.. remember this"

Wooyoung said and he started rubbing his tip on your folds.

"You'll always be..."

He pushed only his tip in.

"My lovely fucktoy."

And he bottomed out.

To which Hongjoong followed his movements, he pushed himself right in, gripping on your waist as he started wildly thrusting into you. You could feel that he wanted to do this for a while, the way he was fucking you was riling you on the walls. Wooyoung's dick was filling you up so good, girthy and.. the huge length hitting your cervix almost every time he bottomed down.

"F-fuck, you feel so good" the older one said.

"R-right? Look at her, fucked by both of us. She needs to be taught a lesson, right? What did I tell you about cheating, mm?" Wooyoung said and started nibbling and sucking on your nipples. "Hm? what did I say?"

"Y-you said that I-i should not- ngh, do it"

"And why did you do it?"

"I-i love when you fuck m-me like this. Like there's no tomorrow" you said and engaged in a steamy kiss with him, your ass slapping on both men's cocks, taking them up so good. The only sounds you could hear in the whole room was Hongjoong groaning and your own muffled moans as you were filled by two dicks at once.

"B-babe. That's so good. Keep it going, I'm close" Woooyoung whined, and as he pushed himself into your aching cunt a couple more times, he came in you, filling you up with his load.

"Yes, that's good. Take it all up" to which he continued with "I'm not done yet." and he started wildily fucking you again with his once again hard cock.

Hongjoong was also close, his thrusts became sloppier and they didn't have any rythm. He pumped himself into you a couple more times and bottomed down, gave you some soft kisses, trailing your spine and came in you, staying like that for a minute.

Wooyoung didn't show any signs of stopping. You could feel your tummy getting thighter and your clit aching harder.

"N-no, ngh, please, a bit slower" you mumbled.

"No? I didn't have enough fun yet" the younger one whispered and he pounded heavily into you and make you squirt all over him and the linen.

"See, that's what I'm talking about."

"Holy fuck" Joong murmured.

"See, Joong? She's just not the innocent girl you've known until now. Did you see just how good she took you?"

"Y-yes" he said, a little bit shy.

"The fuck are you turning your head around for? Ah, you're shy... for what? You just saw her squirt all over me, haha" the younger one scoffed.

"Don't worry. You'll see her like this many more times, you'll get used to it. Right, baby?" Wooyoung said, lifting you and hugging you thightly.

"Y-yes" you murmured, still dizzy from all that happened a moment ago.

"Good girl. Joong, let's get her washed up."

"Up for a 2nd round?" you said confidently.

"Thought you'd never ask" Hongjoong said, making the two of you laugh.

Networks:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz

[worldlxvlys]

my eyes only (part 6)

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: cursing

a/n: hope you enjoy <33

previous part

CHRIS’S POV

what the hell am i doing ?

i just climbed out of her window like a teenage boy.

i needed to get out of there. all i could think about since she went to talk to charlie was what she said, “he’s convinced that you’re in love with me.”

the words themselves aren’t what freaked me out, so much as the fact that they were true.

of course they were true, who wouldn’t fall in love with her?

i loved her so much that it scared me. i was so dependent on her, i don’t know what i’d do without her.

i’ve known that i had feelings for her for a while, and i was even set to confess them to her right before her and charlie got together.

the words were on the tip of my tongue, but i chickened out at the last minute.

because at the end of the day, i’d rather be her friend and in pain than completely lose her.

i refuse to lose her. i have not gone through years of pining for her just to fuck it up now.

and, i will admit, fucking her and sneaking out of the window ? not my best move.

but i panicked in the moment, and resorted to what i do best, running from my problems.

it was too late to go back once i snuck out, but i was going to do everything in my power to fix it.

hence, the reason i was trudging through the rain towards the local plaza that was the perfect walking distance from her house.

i’m not fucking up this time.

READER’S POV

it had been an hour since chris left. i had no way to contact him, because he managed to forget his phone in my room.

him not having any way to communicate with anyone worried me, as he had no way to ask anyone for a ride home.

i had decided i was going to drive around and see if i could find him, just to make sure he was safe.

i grabbed my phone and his, along with my car keys and stepped out into the pouring rain.

i locked my door behind me and started to make my way down my drive way to my car, but stopped halfway when i spotted chris already there.

his hair was soaking wet, his once light grey hoodie now a darker hue as it was saturated in rain.

he held a giant bouquet of flowers in his left hand, a plastic bag hanging from his right.

“chris” i breathed out, as i walked towards him.

“you scared the shit out of me” i yelled over the rain, watching as his eyes widened.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have left like that. i just got overwhelmed and i didn’t even think before i left”

he placed the flowers down on the hood of my car, freeing his hand.

he moved my hair out of my face, cupping my cheek.

“i just- i’m in love with you” he spoke as he swallowed harshly.

my eyes widened at his confession, and my heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest.

his cheeks and nose were red due to the cold rain dripping down his face.

“and i’m scared. i don’t want to do anything to fuck up our relationship, because i need you in my life. i’d never forgive myself for scaring you away” his eyes bounced back and forth between mine and my head began to spin under his intense gaze.

“and watching the way charlie treated you for so long killed me. but i’d go through that a hundred more times if it meant having you in my life. because then, at least i’d be here to take care of you. that’s all i ever want to do, for the rest of my life. i just wanna be here for you and look out for you.”

“and if i’m freaking you out we can pretend like this never happened, but please don’t run away. i can’t lose you, i need you” he spoke with certainty, like he knew for a fact that he couldn’t live without me.

“please say something” he whispered.

i continued to stare at him in shock, trying to process the fact that i wasn’t dreaming.

this was the moment that i’d been waiting for for years.

i spent so long wishing that chris would long for me the way that i did him.

and here he stood, in front of me in the pouring rain, telling me what i’ve been trying to muster up the courage to tell him.

it’s like i was living the life of a main character in a romance novel.

like the movie scene that every teenage girl dreams that she’ll find herself in.

it felt so surreal, i couldn’t even think of the right words to say.

so instead of speaking, i did the next best thing.

i grabbed the bottom of his hoodie, bunching it up and using it to pull his lips to mine.

this kiss was different than any of the other ones we’d shared, even a few hours ago.

every unspoken emotion that we shoved down and were too scared to express, was poured into the kiss.

it was almost like we were starting over.

the rain washed away every feeling of sadness and pain that we had previously experienced.

the kiss introduced us to the happiness, love, and passion that we had to look forward to.

it was always there, but sometimes it was easy for the negative feelings to overpower and bury them.

he dropped the bag that he was holding, snaking his hand around my waist.

i tilted my head, deepening the kiss as our lips moved against each others.

i silently prayed that he couldn’t hear the uncontrollable pace that my heart was beating at.

his wet fingertips grazed my jawline, making me shudder against him.

despite the coolness of his skin, every touch to my waist seemed to make my skin heat up.

when we finally needed air, we pulled away from each other.

my eyes were still closed as my swollen lips tingled, aching for the touch of his again.

chris moved in again, pressing his lips to mine tenderly, making me laugh.

i pulled away slightly, prompting his lips to follow mine.

before he could kiss me again, though, i spoke up,” i love you too” i whispered.

“and i have for years. my relationship with charlie was a sad attempt at getting over you” i said, making him chuckle at me.

“you’re the only person i’ll ever want, chris. it’s just you. and i’m not going anywhere, ok? you have me” i said as i smiled up at him.

a wide smile broke onto his face as he pulled me in for another kiss.

suddenly remembering something, i pulled away from him.

“hey, did you know that a rain kiss is on my bucket list ?” i asked excitedly.

“i know” he smiled at me before pulling me in again.

MY EYES ONLY ->

🌀🌀🌀🌀

this is literally based on @hearts4chriss + chris’s love story, i be taking notes when she tells me abt it 😝

main masterlist

my eyes only masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @heraakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07

[chaoticallywriting]

☂Death and Her Companion☂

Prologue

Description - And so we meet the girl from the bunker, the hidden away secret. The one to powerful, to fearsome and to quick-witted. How sad it must be to be the harbinger of death and yet have such a kind soul. How odd it strikes the other Hargreaves that this wondrous woman is their 'little' brothers supposed ex. One must wonder what her role is in everything, which chest piece she is on Reginald Hargreaves board. One thing is for sure, to Five she is the all mighty queen.

A/N - Please don't expect much of me, I am dragging myself through work four cans of alani at a time. There are little time jumps throughout their time in the apocalypse. I plan on writing more cute apocalypse bonding moments for them throughout the series.

Warnings - Canon typical violence, use of y/n like twice. Needles, blood, syringes, abandonment issues. Self worth issues. Mentions of skinniness due to lack of food (from the apocalypse my dudes)

Pairing - Five x Reader

Word count - 6k

To tell a story, one must have a character or set of characters to follow. They may not be reliable or entirely likable nor good-hearted or kind, they may not be evil or extraordinary but simply intriguing. Intriguing enough to hold the reader's attention, to keep them coming back for more. And that is Y/N, a girl born on a day where something extraordinary happened and if given any other power she would have been one to marvel over. 

But the babe was born with fingertips dosed in inky darkness and killed her mother during birth. Then her grandmother who held the babes pinky and so on. Eventually she was kept hidden with the help of one Reginald Hargreaves, who agreed that her power was too strong for the world to bear. So said girl lived her life underground with a robot as a mother (to keep her from accidentally killing her too) and eventually a robotic companion that was meant to resemble her age. 

Even through glitches and random updates she didn’t know what normal really was, so she never batted an eye. As she grew so did the darkness upon her fingertips until eventually it stopped at her elbows. She read every book given to her, watched every movie and show and held a strict physical regiment to keep her in shape. 

She learned just about every fighting style known to man thanks to the updates her mother was given and regularly ran in the underground garden. Her bunker was her life and she never thought it odd until she was 14. You see, all those movies and books showed a different life than hers, exciting ones that showed the ocean and the sun, the moon, stars. There was romance and friendships, adventures galore. Suddenly her life which was once fulfilling felt… suffocatingly dull. 

Neither her companion nor mother would let her out nor sympathize with her. They only tried to distract the girl from her growing desires. But such desires only grew and mixed with the rage of a preteen girl came a moment in her life she’d always remember, the moment when the monotony would finally end. They didn’t listen, they tried placating, and they tried deflecting. At one point they tried to make her feel crazy, but her textbooks and ways of entertainment showed proof of a different life. So finally when all that rage and loneliness finished brewing it came time to try to escape.  

She didn’t make it past the second steel door before a syringe was put in her neck. She awoke, she tried again, she was kept locked in a more secure room, no longer allowed to roam her bunker. So when her mother and companion came to visit on the 5th day she used her upbringing to her advantage and killed them. Twitching metallic limbs were scattered about the padded room, oil seeping out instead of blood and the sound of frying wires filling the air. 

Finally, from doing this, she met the man who built her bunker. He kept himself protected behind a wall of plexiglass, staring her down through his monocle with a disapproving glare. “You have caused quite the mess.” 

The young girl was sobbing, she had just killed the only people - no things she ever knew. She was a monster, a murderer. “I just want out, please let me out!” 

“I cannot do that child, your power is beyond my control. You were able to suppress the medicine I tried to give you and are not fit for normal ways of living.” 

His voice was cold and stern, in her already fragile state his lack of empathy only made her feel small. He only seemed to validate her worst fears. 

“I can offer you something though, a way out from this life. All you must do is step through those doors and into the chamber I’ve built for you. It will let you out, I promise.” 

The young girl, having never seen him before, didn’t know how this man was full of deceit. With barely anything else to do, she simply nodded through her tears. Whilst sniffling the girl followed his instructions and clambered into the small chamber. As she turned to face him, she realized how tiny it was and began to panic, but it was too late. Before she could even open her mouth to protest, the chamber door slammed shut and a gas filled the space. 

It seemed like only seconds before air flooded the chamber, ragged gasps escaping her cracked lips. The pain she felt was overwhelming, it flooded her body and felt as though she was being torn in two. As her eyes rapidly blinked, she found the glass of the chamber had shattered and all around her was clouded by smoke and dust. As the terrified girl tried to move, that sharp pain halted her movements, causing her to crumble onto the floor. 

Her hands and knees fell against the ground, shards of glass embedding into them and as the metallic taste flooded her mouth the young girl found a sharp metal stuck within her abdomen. Her once pristine white dress now drenched in blood and covered in smears of charcoal gray from the soot surrounding her. Blood dripped from her lips as she started to wheeze, her body falling the short distance onto the surrounding rumble. The icy grip of death was squeezing her and in her final moments she saw a pair of small and childlike leather loafers appear before her eyes. 

Seconds turned to minutes as a confused and heart wrenched Five watched the young girl die. The only living being he’s seen since arriving in the future a mere eight hours ago, has perished within seconds of being within his presence. His confusion only heightens as he takes in her hands and forearms, then stares at the science fiction esque chamber she seemed to have fallen out of. It looked like something out of the comic books his brothers read- or well-used to read now that they are dead. The thought only hurt him more, causing tears to fill the pubescent eyes. 

This odd looking girl had been stored in their family home, for how long? Five doesn’t know. But what he does know is his family is dead, and the world has ended, he’s seemingly alone and all he wishes to do is mourn his siblings. He takes a step backwards, planning on going back to their remains, (where he had spent the last six hours, sitting numbly among them) when a finger of hers twitches. 

At first, he thinks he must be hallucinating from all the fumes and exhaustion due to all the tears he’s cried, but then it happens again and then her left arm jerks inwards, curling around her stomach. He’s stunned as he watches the young girl begin to slowly lift herself into a sitting position, the large piece of metal once lodged in her abdomen just… falling onto the ground, drenched in her blood. 

The gaping hole begins to slowly mend itself as she wheezes and groans. Even all the tiny scratches across her body from the glass begin to heal and Five is left standing before some undead fourteen-year-old in a mixture of shock and awe. His siblings would probably be horrified and while he won’t say it out loud there is a small part of him that is; but that morbid curiosity of his kicks in and overpowers the dull horror ebbing through his brain. Suddenly it makes sense on how she survived an entire building collapsing on her and her near indestructible pod, how somehow whatever killed everyone else around him didn’t harm her. 

“What are you?” He utters in a scratchy (he has been crying and screaming for hours) and awe filled tone.  

Her nose scrunches, bloodied features full of fear and offense at his question. Those inky hands lay flat against the rubble as she pulls herself to stand, all wounds once leaking blood now closed and scabbed over. Her tone is soft and barely audible, as if almost scared to speak. “I’m just Y/N.” 

The duffle slung over her shoulder is threadbare and has millions of random holes across it that have been half hazardously stitched back together. The uncomfortable strap digs into her shoulder as the weight of her valuables bogs her down. Their last source of shelter ended up collapsing not too long ago and so the sixteen-year-olds are once more on the hunt for a new place to call home. So they walk along a road cluttered with trash and rubble, dilapidated buildings lining both sides and the scorching sun beating down on them. 

“What do you think we’ll find this time?” 

He huffs, “I don’t know, something with a roof preferably.” Five has a duffle too along with a cart full of heavier items like their jars of food they’ve collected, jugs of barely drinkable water and makeshift tools. 

The heat from the sun has made the girl drenched in sweat, body glistening and dirty, misshapen clothes stuck to her. Perhaps if she took her gloves off she’d feel a little better, but ever since discovering them she’s kept them on no matter the weather. 

A year into the apocalypse they found a department store, one where Five became rather enamored by a mannequin. As he spent the better of twenty minutes simply staring at that torsoless thing, she hunted for any clothes they might need. Anything that didn’t seem within their size she set aside to eventually make a blanket out of it and began to softly hum to herself. 

Finally, Five abandoned the mannequin and tossed something at the girl. A pair of elbow length black gloves. “Try those on,” he said as he began sifting through her pile of maybes. These were on the mannequin, she realized. The whole time she was worried about him losing it, and he came back with these instead of a new “friend.”  

The gloves were a bit big but not enough that she had to worry about them slipping off. The inside felt silky and due to the size they went just passed her elbow instead. “These will be nice when winter hits, I won’t have to worry about potentially freezing any fingers off this year.” 

“You should try touching the next rat we catch before we kill it… I have a theory that may help.” 

And they did help, tremendously. The girl was shocked all it took to stop her powers was some cheap fabric. Her heart squeezed with appreciation as she finally began feeling less terrified of being around anything living. It felt ironic in the beginning how she finally felt free from not only herself but the chains that she was metaphorically born with, after the world had ended. Almost everyone was dead and she was finally at peace. 

Now at sixteen she wears the same pair of gloves which now fit perfectly. There are holes and tears that have also been stitched with random thread that they scavenged throughout the years. Despite the fabric containing her undesired power, she finds herself hardly ever touching anything she wouldn’t want to kill. Anything that isn’t Five is food and well Five isn’t a very tactical person. There are a few nights each winter that they’ll huddle together for warmth, which he always makes a face about; but beyond that it’s more of a safety precaution. A ‘just in case I bump against you or need to grab you before you fall’ kind of thing.

As she stares at the dirtied gloves, a thought that’s always drifted through her mind bubbles to the surface once more. While they usually scavenge in silence to keep them focused for danger, today feels like an okay day to break that. There haven't been any accidents in a while, and typically they tend to be some sort of problem with herself. She’s fallen on rebar and been bitten by rabid rats, caught deathly flus and been the taste tester for water since the very day she fell out of what she can only assume was some type of cryochamber. 

“Why do you think he never thought to do this to me?” 

He eyes her for a second, brow raised. They both step over some debris, worn shoes knocking small rocks out of the way as he speaks. “What? End the world?” 

A cockroach skitters by and for a brief second they both watch it in concentrated silence. There’s a silent debate between them, eyes locked, on whether they should hunt it and kill. Five makes the first move of ignoring it and moving on. They have jars of food, and it’s not that big. Plus they don’t have the necessities to pickle it like they did in the past. 

“No dumbo.-“ He glares at her, “-give me gloves, so I couldn’t harm anyone. He could have saved so much time and money and I could have been one of you guys! One of the umbrella academy, going on missions and having a real family.” 

“What we had wasn’t exactly a proper family,” he starts. The girl sighs, thinking of what her family was. While his wasn’t normal either, it wasn’t as insane sounding as hers. “I’m guessing you can’t really make a toddler or even a young child keep the gloves on, no matter how much you stress the importance of them.” 

“Then he should have just killed me when he adopted me.” 

He stops all together which she doesn’t pick up at first, too busy surveying their surroundings for anything useful. So far it’s just more collapsed buildings and dust. Sometimes she thinks of the old westerns Thomas (her childhood companion) liked, and imagines a tumbleweed lightly dancing across the street ahead of them. 

“You think so?” Finally, she turns, noticing the distance between them and the girl just shrugs. He eyes her, gaze critical. They’ve been at this whole apocalypse thing for a while now and a major part of staying alive has been having one another. Yes he has the motivation of seeing his family again to help keep him going, but it’s been her that’s helped keep him off that delicious looking precipice of madness. 

“I do, if he couldn’t trust me to simply keep some gloves on then he should have killed me. Obviously I was too dangerous for the world, and yet he wouldn’t just do the one thing that was probably best for everyone involved. I mean do you think he adopted me, realized my power and just shoved me in the bunker? Or do you think maybe he tried alternatives first?”

He rubs his face which is already smeared in dust and dirt, his hair is tangled and long and beyond greasy. She knows hers doesn’t look any better. It’s been a while since they’ve found anything sharp, the last sharp thing they had was a broken bottle that they used as a makeshift knife. It didn’t last long. 

“I think despite his cold nature, killing a baby was too heartless of a task even for the old man.” He finally walks again, stopping at her side. Neither move, simply staring at one another. “I don’t know why he kept you in there, maybe we can figure that out when we get back.” 

Despite his insistence of them returning, she finds herself hardly believing it. She’s never told him how she doubts him, worried it will cause a rift between the two. The idea of rocking the delicate balance between them has always been at the back of her mind. Sometimes she wakes in the middle of the night from a horrible dream of him abandoning her, claiming she’s too much of a liability or something. 

“You have caused quite the mess.”

It loops in her brain like clockwork, constantly there to remind her of the life she once lived. Even if they were robots, she killed the only two companions she ever had, and she wonders if Five has ever judged her for it. 

“Yeah,” she says in a slightly dejected, half-hearted tone. “Maybe.” 

Around her twenties, something happens. She’s not quite sure how or why, but she stops aging. Five continues to age as time drags on and she stays relatively the same. They theorize that it must be because of her whole ‘not dying’ shtick which then just springs forth a new panic inside her. She’s always worried about Five somehow dying but now no matter what she’ll end up alone. Because even if she wraps him in bubble wrap and always takes good care of him, he will die and she won’t. There is no old age for her and there most likely never will be. She can do everything in her power to keep him alive but one day he will die, and she will be eternally alone in this fiery hellscape. It’s befitting, she guesses, due to his nickname for her being Death. 

Death will be stuck in hell completely by herself because death always takes from others so why should it be given something in return. Why should it have companionship or a happy ending of some sort? 

They’ve grown closer recently, it’s odd and comforting all at once. Perhaps it’s due to the fact that they’ve managed to make a somewhat stable makeshift shelter. They’ve spent two and a half years there and just recently have come across a small packet of potato seeds. There’s little hope anything will grow but that small piece of happiness has caused them both to briefly stop thinking of what needs to be done next to keep from dying. 

They’re thirties now, or well she’s still physically twenty, and have recently been reading together at night. They huddle by their fire as the autumn chill sets in, and he reads a few passages before the flames die down. Shoulders bump and sometimes their heads lean against one another. He’s grown to be handsome in her eyes, and she wonders if she’d still think that if others were around. 

One day, after the embers dwindle and a cold breeze drifts through the cracks within their makeshift home, something odd occurs. Within the darkness she makes out his eyes still open as they huddle together, surveying her features. When they make eye contact he clears his throat and shifts to look at the metal sheet ceiling they’ve concocted. 

“What is it?” Death whispers. It’s not great to be loud at night, as time went on the rats got bigger and as did the roaches. They’ve become a sort of predator for them and while both are excellent fighters neither wants to deal with some sort of altercation this late at night. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he coldly responds. Ahh, so she gets to deal with defensive Five. The one who deflects and tries to turn it around on her. It’s funny and kinda cute that despite all the years that they’ve spent together, he still thinks he can lie to her. 

“You were staring at me,” she turns to her side to face him, trying and failing to hide a smirk. Her hands are flat underneath her head to act as a cushion against the flattened pillow she’s been using for the last six years. 

“You have dirt on your face.” 

“I always have dirt on my face-“ 

“Yeah well,” he drawls, “you have more than usual.” 

In a flash she turns to the other side, hand digging into the dirt nearby and smears it across his face. His mouth is gapping open, and she can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out. He clamps a hand over her mouth and for a moment, they stare into each other's eyes in silence as they wait to hear for any nearby creatures. His eyes are wide with anger and his grip against her mouth is rough, but she’s not scared. She could never be scared of him. 

They stay like that even once it’s clear they aren’t in danger. His grip on her mouth softens slightly but neither diverts their gaze. It almost feels like a contest on who can wimp out first. 

“You have beautiful eyes,” he mutters, his voice so soft it’s almost lost to the howling wind. “That’s what I was looking at.” 

Deaths mouth drops open as his hand falls away. 

“Oh.”

Her bravado is lost, and she feels something tighten within her chest. Her heart is beating rapidly, like whenever they're in danger, but they aren’t. She vaguely remembers watching heroines in romance movies describe this type of thing, this sort of rattling within her abdomen and sudden clamminess of the palms. 

“And your lips,” he starts- 

“What about them?” She whispers, far too nervous to let him continue without responding first.

“They suit your face perfectly.” His thumb comes to rest on her lower lip, and he slightly pulls at it. The woman’s breath hitches and unconsciously scoots closer to him. Their chests are touching as they lay on their sides, due to the closeness her hand comes to rest on the forearm of the hand that’s now moving to gently cradle her face. 

“And I can’t stop thinking about them. Even when we’re in danger, I’m not focusing on the task at hand because all I can think about is your lips.” 

She surges forward, closing the gap between them and pressing her lips against his own. He tastes of dirt and the saltiness of his sweat, but she doesn’t mind, she’s sure she tastes the same. It’s awkward and their teeth clash against one another, saliva dribbling down their chins and their touching each other everywhere they can think of. It’s messy and not romantic at all, holding this sense of life ending urgency. Like if she doesn’t kiss him until she can’t breathe then she’ll finally experience true mortality. 

Eventually they reluctantly pull apart, both gasping for breath as their noses bump against one another. He’s still cradling her face and her grip on his forearm is bruising, as if worried he might pull away with regret. 

“Esattamente come immaginavo” he whispers. She can’t help the smile that breaks out across her lips, nor the happy little sigh that escapes her. She kisses him again, and again and again. He indulges each one. 

She breathes the words against his lips, his fingers now gripping her hip to hold her close. It’s hard to concentrate with his thigh pressed against her. “Come lo hai immaginato?” She finally breathes out. 

“Perfetto.”

More years pass, that same shelter still works as their home, even if it is quite rickety. There’s a makeshift shelf lined with pickled roaches or rats and there’s new support poles throughout. With Fives age she does most of the intensive work now, which he hates and there’s always an argument about it. They are as close as can be though, despite everything and despite the wrinkles littering his face or the slight graying of his hair. She loves him, and he loves her in their own twisted little way. 

One day someone appears and breaks their routine. A woman who goes by the title of “The Handler,” explains the commission to them and its mission. Then she pitches a cushy contract to them and while Five hymns and haws over it, Death is about ready to sign on the dotted line. It’s not that she doesn’t understand the risks or thinks it’ll be enjoyable, but it’s out of this apocalyptic wasteland, and it gives Five a chance to live longer. If they get out of here they can retire in their original timeline and get the medical care he may need in his old age. 

Eventually, he concedes, and they leave behind what they’ve known as home for more than half their lives. It’s weird, being part of society again. At least for Five. Death was never fully part of society to begin with so it’s more of a whole panic inducing experience for her. They are given a small living space which consists of a queen bed and an en-suite bathroom. There’s a kitchenette against one wall with a small metal table that has two chairs pushed underneath it. Five says it looks like a motel straight outta the ‘50s. The Handler tells them that’s the current decade they are in. 

Proper clothes and toiletries are given to them and the first time she showers since before her cryochamber is an experience. The hot water hits her back and seemingly melts her hair, turning it from a ratty mess to complete wetness that hangs down her back. The woman hasn’t had a hair cut since she was a child and as she climbs out of the shower she realizes how much hair she currently possesses. A towel is wrapped tightly around her when there’s a knock on the bathroom door, and she cautiously opens it to let Five in. 

He whistles as he takes her in. Beads of water trail down her body and for once there’s not a speck of dirt on her. She spent forever scrubbing at every crevice and callous on her body, trying to rid herself of decades worth of dirt and survival. Her hands tightly grip the towel, afraid to be near him without her gloves. The commission took their old clothes away, claiming they were just trash now. She was promised new clothes and new gloves, but it hurt to part from the hole infested pair gifted to her by her partner. 

“You look like a whole new woman,” he states. She looks down at her body, all skin, and bones from feasting on scraps for so long. She can’t hold back the chuckle that leaves her. 

“I guess so,” she claims. He’s clean now too, even his beard is gone and all that’s left is a mustache. She’s shocked, he’s had one for so long. They’d try to cut it whenever they could to keep him cleanly but even then it’s not like they could do much. She grabs a pair of scissors from the counter and carefully hands them to him, holding her breath as she watches him take them from her. “Will you cut my hair?” 

Five is shocked, it seems the idea of her cutting her long mane never crossed his mind. But if they are going to be assassins then she needs to be practical and there’s no need for such excessive amounts of hair now that they have access to proper scissors. It’s quiet as he cuts, there’s the faint sound of some old song playing in the background, most likely from the little radio on their dresser. She can hear the snip of the metal each time he cuts away a chunk of her past, the weight slowly lessening. It’s symbolic in a way, as if it’s him shutting the door on that part of their life. 

Time drones on, many songs pass and neither of them speak. Eventually he turns her to him, careful to keep her away from the mirror. She watches him with bated breath, realizing now that maybe he won’t like her with shorter hair. It never crossed her mind, it’s only ever been them so the idea that he may suddenly lose interest just seemed… impossible. 

He snips at a few strands close to her face, her initial reaction being to jerk away which he just tuts at her for. Finally, she stays still, and he finishes his work with a few more snips. After slowly setting the scissors down he takes her in, a smile slowly creeping into his thinning lips. “Bellísimo“ he whispers. 

He always flirts with her in Italian, it causes her to flush. With all the dirt gone and the lights of the bathroom shining down on her, only a towel covering her naked frame, she suddenly feels insecure. She’s never felt that around him, never felt the need really. It was never about being pretty, there wasn’t time for pretty. But now there sort of is and there are the resources for it too. 

He turns her to the mirror and the woman before her isn’t apocalyptic Death. This is the new her, fresh into society and ready to kill anyone necessary for her. She hopes that she comes to like who she sees in the mirror, or at least recognize her. Right now it seems like a hollowed out stranger with bags under her eyes and a bony form. But she will admit, Five is a good hairdresser. 

The commission is smart, that she will give them. They hardly ever assign her and Five on missions together. They become ships passing in the night, barely seeing one another for an hour or so at a time before they are rushing off in a new mission, after a new target. Furthermore, they give her new silky black gloves and The Handler has dubbed her “The Belladonna” because she’s stealthy like a poison and quick like one too. Efficient and always out of sight. She loses count of the people she’s killed, at this point it’s instinctual to take off her gloves and just touch whenever need be. The horror of watching someone drop-dead mere moments later soon wears off, and instead she’s left feeling emptier each time. 

Five has always been trying to figure out how to get home, but now with the technology of the commission he’s really started cracking down on it. She tries to help when she can, offering insight and even solving one of the various problems. It’s late one night, a rare one where they are both in their room together. 

He’s got a drink in his hand, and she’s in one of his shirts with her gloves on. They’ve got papers scattered across the floor with various formulas and her brain hurts from all this thinking. She just got back from a mission, having successfully killed eight people who were at risk of disrupting the timeline. It was easy until the end, one slipped away and a chase began. She eventually got him but had to pull her gun on him which has always been her least favorite way to do it. It’s not like she’s bad at it, quite the contrary, but it’s messy. It’s brutal and suddenly it seems more impactful. With a simple touch they choke and freeze, then fall to the ground and boom! Dead. With a gun there’s a struggle and so much blood, there’s gasping and wheezing and pleads for a second chance. She feels less human every time she pulls the trigger. 

“What about your age?” She randomly asks. He’s sat on the edge of the bed and her question has his gaze whipping away from the papers to her pacing form. “I mean, if we can travel to the correct time to fix the apocalypse from happening then maybe we can do something about your age.” 

“What’s wrong with my age?” a white brow is raised and she sighs. She’s never really voiced her fear to him, worried he might end up becoming offended. In all honesty old age suits him, he’s always acted like an old man. Crotchety, opinionated with sarcasm dripping from his tone. He’s the kind who’d probably sit on his porch and yell at kids to get off his lawn. 

Death walks over to him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. They lock eyes, and she knows it’s time to finally tell him. “You’ll die in a couple of decades, and I’ll most likely still be a twenty-something year old woman. If we manage to get back to your family's timeline and retire then… Shouldn’t we be given the chance at a proper life together?” 

“What like kids and a house? I didn’t peg you for the whole suburban life.” 

She scoffs, eyes practically rolling into the back of her head. “No, I’m not talking about the whole white picket fence shebang.”

“I’m talking about us building a home together, finding a place with big windows in the living room that we’ll place two armchairs by so we can read in the sunlight. We’ll buy enough books to fill up a whole wall with them and a bar cart with your favorite spirits always stocked up.”

“We’ll get serious business-esque jobs and on the weekends we’ll lay in bed for an extra hour, cuddling or making love. You’ll get more time with not only me but your whole family too. Don’t you want that?” 

It’s quiet for far too long as he contemplates her words, his eyes scanning over her features before looking at the mess of papers behind her. She can tell he’s doing the logistics in his head, weighing the pros and cons. His hands rest on her hips, and she gently straddles his lap, her arms linking around his neck to keep him close. 

“It’ll complicate the formula even more,” he softly observes. “We’re so close to finishing this. I can tell.” 

Her hands slide up to cup the back of his head. She can’t help but frown as he lets her down, her heart squeezing as she thinks of what’s down the road. “Please, we’re both smart, and can easily figure it out. It’s just a couple extra numbe-“ 

“Death-“ 

“Please,” she practically begs, her hands tangling in his hair and slightly tugging. “I can’t go live a normal life if you aren’t part of it.” 

“I miss them, they’re my family, and they need me.”

She’s losing him, the wall is slowly going up, and she’s desperately trying to jump over it before the finality sets in. “What about me, don’t I need you too? Don’t we need each other I mean we survived the apocalypse together for fuck's sake!” 

“And I spent the entire time thinking about getting back to them. Surviving for them.” 

He doesn’t mean too, she knows that deep down, but his words cut her deeply. A wound on her barely beating heart is forming, and he’s just staring at her with a hardened expression. 

Her eyes well with unshed tears, voice quivering as she speaks. “What about me, about us? Didn’t you survive for me too?” 

It’s silent for two beats, then three and then four. They just stare at each other waiting for one to relent. Both of them are so stubborn and so set in their plan. She knows this is a pipe dream, but she was still holding out hope until this very moment. He thickly swallows and she just knows.

The wall is fully between them now. She couldn’t make the jump. His mind is made up, and she’s scared to hear what he’ll say. “I think I should go alone. There are less numbers if it’s just me.” 

And that scratch, that wound, only deepens. It’s a crater now, and she fears there’s very little of her heart left functioning. She’s died a million times, been stabbed in every place imaginable, contracted various deadly illnesses, died from fire and hypothermia and yet now, this hurts far more than all of those combined. She climbs off of him like his touch is hurting her and aggressively wipes at her eyes. 

“I didn’t realize I was hindering you so much-“ 

“I didn’t say that. I’m just sa-“ 

“I heard you loud and clear. If my presence is such a bother then I think I’ll request a different room.” She pulls on a pair of pants and quickly slips her feet into a pair of slippers. He just watches her too, doesn’t jump up to stop her. All this time she’s worried about what would happen if she voiced her thoughts, and it turns out her fears were warranted. All it took was her asking for something for once, begging for something even, for him to shut her out. 

Five is selfish and cold-hearted, and he doesn’t love her like she loves him. He’s a man obsessed with one mission only, and she bets he won’t even like his family once he gets there. He just wants to be some kind of hero to them, to prove to himself that he can be the savior. To make up for his absence all those years. 

With the click of the door, she severs the only love she’s ever known and changes the course of her life. 

[thisisourlovestory]

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Wordcount- 3.1k

Notes: Sorry this one was so late, it was just not chaptering but it's here now so enjoy!

Chapter 5

My heels clicked as I walked across the stone floor. My dress swirling around in the light breeze that flowed through the opening at the other end of the room. I felt eyes on me as I walked. So many eyes. All latching onto me and following my every movement. I locked my own gaze on the horses. Beautiful creatures, tall, strong and powerful. I stopped next to the chariot I would be riding in and stroked the horses pulling it. I found myself drawn towards the one on the left. His depthless black eyes pierced my skin. I felt as if he knew everything I was feeling, everything I thought, everything I had done. I stood directly in front of him. My own eyes locked on his as I lifted my hand to stroke his face. Dark fur like velvet under my touch. He nickered quietly, hooves pawing at the ground. 

“It's okay. It's okay.” I soothe him gently. “I'm a friend, I won't hurt you.” I hold his head and stroke along his nose to calm him down as I chatter mindlessly to him. “You're very beautiful, you know. I'd love to see you free, running in the wild. I'm sure it would be a sight to behold, you in the meadows. I think you'd like that, meadows are pretty. Especially if they have lots of flowers, my favourites are the blue and purple ones. Then again you might eat the flowers.“ I frown. “I don't know if flowers are good for horses so you maybe shouldn't eat them.” He snorted as if laughing at me and I smiled before turning around and taking a step forward. Immediately, eyes were on me again, assessing, questioning, some downright sadistic- as if they were already plotting how to kill me. I shuffled nervously on my feet, putting my hands behind my back and fiddling with my fingers as I peered around curiously myself, Cashmere and Gloss were stood chatting to Enobaria and Brutus, their sneering expressions as they glanced over me giving away exactly what they were talking about. Other tributes were milling around, chatting to each other quietly, trying to not draw attention to themselves. I decided to mingle a bit, I meandered through the room, not looking directly at anyone but nodding hello or raising a hand in greeting. Without realising it I somehow ended up by the district 12 tributes, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. The winners of last year's games, the star crossed lovers. I gave them both a quick nod and turned, in doing so I lost my balance and wobbled, almost falling over but Katniss grabbed my arm and righted me. 

“Thank you.” I muttered. She said nothing in response so I thanked her again awkwardly and made to walk away. 

“Wait,” I turned to see her holding a hand out to me. “You're Y/N right. The winner of the 68th.” I nodded.

“Yes, I am.” 

“I remember the year you won. I watched your entire games. You won by killing the three career tributes didn't you.“ I shivered at the reminder and replied softly. 

“Yes.” 

“Nobody thought you would be the one to win. I didn’t either. Thought it would be the district 2 boy.” I laughed lightly. 

“That makes two of us.” I stopped for a second before continuing. “I know you don't know me or anything but for what it’s worth I’m sorry you have to do this again. You and Peeta. You don't deserve it.”

“None of us should have to do this.” Peeta interrupted. “None of us.” I quirked an eyebrow as I studied him. His face set in a stony expression. 

“You shouldn't have won either but you did and here we all are again.” I turned away from him to face Katniss again. “And what you did for your sister last year was brave.”

“What you did for Annie this year was brave.” She countered. I hummed

“How do you know I didn't do it for glory?”

“Because none of us want to go back in there.” I studied her, a sad smile on my lips.

“That's not entirely true.” She looked confused for a second and I shook my head. “Some of us want to go back in, not for the reasons you're thinking, not for glory or bragging rights. Some of us just want to protect other people.” I shook my head slightly, my hair falling over my shoulders. “Like him,” I nodded to Peeta who was petting the horses,”He wants to protect you and he didn't want Haymitch to go back in because he would have probably died.“ She gazed at me for a second. 

“So you volunteered to protect someone as well.” I stared back at her. 

“I didn't mean to volunteer. It just happened.” She opened her mouth to respond but we heard a scream of my name from across the room. I turned and was immediately enveloped in a huge hug, my face filled with coiffed hair and I spluttered as it covered my mouth and nose.  

“Effie, hair. Face. Hair. Breathing.” I stuttered out, Effie pulled away from me and gasped. 

“Oh you look so beautiful! Absolutely gorgeous!.” She grasped the fabric of my dress and inspected it closely. “The stitching is impeccable and this colour is so lovely on you.” 

“Wait a minute, how do you three know each other?” Katniss interjected.

“We met when I was in the games, Effie loved me from the start because according to her I was ‘just so adorable’ and Haymitch warmed up to me after a while. But we’re only acquaintances, very rarely see each other.” She looked sceptical but nodded anyway.

“Effie’s right kid. You look pretty incredible. They'll all love you out there.” Haymitch said from behind, patting me on the back. “How’ve you been doing?” I shrugged. “Come on, something must have happened since we last saw you. It's been what, three, four years since you refused to see us again?” 

“Four years, eight months and twenty seven days.” I muttered, looking down at the floor and laughed awkwardly. “There have been some tough moments, nightmares that you can never get rid of, but other than those I've been fine. Same as I always was. Same as I always will be.” I squinted at him. “What about you?” 

“We’ve been very busy looking after these two and making sure they are adapting well to life as victors but other than that it's been much the same as usual.” Effie chimed in, sending a glare Haymitch's way and mouthing something I couldn't discern. Haymitch rolled his eyes at her and spoke to me as she fussed over Katniss.

“You volunteered. I thought you said nothing could ever make you come back.” I looked down.

“I lied.”

“I don't know why you did it kid and I know you won't tell me because you don't get close to people if you can help it, so just,” He  sighed, ”Just try and stay alive as long as you can alright.” He patted me on the back again and went to talk to Peeta as Effie 

“I have missed you like you wouldn't imagine darling. Although I did see you dancing a few times, it was so graceful and beautiful.” She covered her mouth. “You've grown up so much. Now where is that escort of yours, Lysander?” I shrugged again. 

“Don’t know. Probably hounding Finnick or something.” Effie let out a loud sigh. 

“He really is useless. Utterly useless. And I’ve told him that before you know. But apparently my advice is meaningless! Does he even know what his job is? It’s to help you win by getting you sponsors. And ignoring you completely is not the way to help.” 

“It’s okay. Finnick has got the better chance of survival anyway, it makes more sense to focus on him.” Haymitch sent me a look.

“Do not look at me like that. I'm going to try my best but let's be honest it's not going to be enough.” I scrunched my nose up and tipped my head to Katniss. “See you out there girl on fire. It's been a pleasure meeting you.” She shook my hand.

“See you out there.”

“And you Peeta.” I called out to him. “We’ll all bump into each other again at some point I'm sure.” With that I walked off, leaving them all staring at my back in surprise. I let out a shuddering breath as I leaned against a wall, my head tipping back and my eyes shutting in a moment of peace that was over as soon as it began when they called us all to our chariots. I pushed myself off the wall and made my way back over to the horses and chariot, stroking their noses quickly before being helped up into the chariot. Dark metal and deep blue flowers at the front to represent District 4. I picked a petal and smoothed it over with the pads of my fingers, smooth and velvety. I felt a tap on my shoulder and jumped, turning to face a smirking Finnick. 

“Sugarcube?” He asked, holding them out to me. I took one hesitantly and bit into it, the sweetness spread across my tongue, coating my entire mouth. 

“Thank you.” I mumbled, sucking the rest into my cheek. Unfortunately, I finally clocked what he was wearing, or lack thereof, and almost choked on the sugar as I inhaled sharply and swallowed at the same time. I had been prepared for this to happen. But clearly not as prepared as I had thought I would be. Because there stood Finnick Odair, still smirking, biting a sugarcube with his back teeth, dressed in nothing more than a golden net tied in a knot to secure it around his waist. He was perhaps the closest thing to naked I’d ever seen a person be before, I thought to myself idly and swallowed again, the grains of sugar scratching my throat. I averted my gaze quickly as I felt heat rising in my cheeks and resolutely stared anywhere but at him. He laughed next to me.

“I didn't expect that.” I admitted quietly. “I thought you'd at least be wearing actual clothes.” I peeked at him for a second, the man was built like a greek god. All muscle and tan skin and just unfairly perfect. 

“My stylist is of the belief that the more they see of me the better.” He held out a hand towards me. “I don't think we've been properly formally introduced. I'm Finnick Odair.” My heart broke in my chest at his words but I shook his hand and whispered my own name back as the chariots began to move forwards. I smoothed out the creases in the delicate fabric of my dress and plastered a pleasant expression on my face just as the noise of the Capitol hit my ears. And we were out. Parading down the Avenue of Tributes with people cheering for us yet again, but this time multiplied by a million. It was the one event of the week that every single person in the Capitol came to see and they all blurred together in a mass of whirling colours. I smiled faintly and tapped a small raised gem sewn into the sleeve of my dress. Immediately, water began to trickle down from my tiara. It seemed to have a life of its own and left cold trails on my skin. It touched the fabric of my dress and a brilliant blue bloomed from the patch. As it trickled further down, the rest of my dress turned similar shades until the water stopped flowing and collected in a pool at the hem of my dress, dripping slightly and leaving a damp patch on the surface of the chariot. I gazed up at myself on the projections as the people went wild and threw flowers at us, hollering for our attention. The top of the dress had become a dark blue the colour of the deepest parts of the ocean and it faded into a powdery blue the colour of the flowers that had lined my mothers porch years ago. I looked like a queen of the sea. My dress was a representation of the ocean and of District 4, of my home. Megara had outdone herself and I would wear it with pride. So I waved and blew kisses to people, a smile as bright as the sun on my face. I could hear the commentary vaguely in the background. Exclamations of how they had never quite seen something like that before, how beautiful the dress was, how perfect it was for me, for their angel. Others had attempted to copy the artificial flames but compared to the original they seemed like cheap knockoffs. Hardly impressive. I could understand why Megara would use water then, to make a different statement. Fire had already been seen, it was old, except for on district 12. But water, the opposite of fire. They had never seen that before and it really helped that she was styling for our district. And yet when Katniss and Peeta emerged, dressed in a blazing inferno, I was forgotten. As expected the attention all shifted to the star crossed lovers of district 12. Not that I could blame them, they were a sight to behold, even more dramatic than last year. The chariots circled and everyone waved up to President Snow. I simply nodded my head towards him, my gaze cold. Eventually we came to a stop in a semi circle and President Snow stepped up to the podium overhead.

“Welcome all to the 75th Hunger Games. We thank our tributes for their great sacrifice. We shall be sad to see them go.” With that he sends us on our way, we roll out and back where we came from. I leapt out as soon as we passed the entry way, my dress dragging along the floor, dust sticking to the damp fabric. I saw Mags waiting and brushed past her without a glance. I walked around for a bit, the architecture of the building was so new, it was clear they had it built especially for us. It was like a fortress, cameras everywhere, the thickest glass they could have found for windows, doors that couldn't be opened unless the guard stood next to them opened them for you and white walls all around. It wasn't just a training centre. It was a cage, our cage for the next week. 

I laughed. They really didn't want us going anywhere at all. And they weren't taking any chances if they could help it. They could mask it with pretences of hospitality and wishing for us to enjoy our stay but even a blind man could see that this was a prison, and one made specifically to keep us in. I pressed a button on the wall and stepped into the elevator. Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch all greeted me with nods and Johanna grinned widely at me as we started moving upwards. 

“Well well well. If it isn't the little princess. Tell me, how's life been treating you in the Capitol?” She asked, venom dripping from each word. I regarded her silently, assessing as she stripped off her dress. She had never liked me. She thought I was just some pretty little doll that the Capitol kept and never touched. They all thought that though, each and every victor knew I danced and sang and that was it. They had never been so wrong in their lives. But who was I to tell them that? It's not as if they would listen to anything I had to say. 

“Life has been,” I paused, “It's been wonderful.” I watched her eyes darken with anger as she pulled off the last of her dress, leaving it in a heap on the floor. She quickly turned to Katniss and Peeta, flashed a cat-like grin.

“Thanks. This has been fun, we should do it again sometime.” With that she flounced out of the open doors. Haymitch whistled.

“Thank you.” Katniss sent him a disgusted look and I disguised a laugh with a cough. As much as I disliked her I could admire her. She was everything the Capitol didn't want her to be and the looks on Katniss and Peetas faces were something. She was confused, he was almost impressed and Haymitch was just like me, trying to not laugh out loud at their reactions

“Johanna Mason, district 7. Won the 71st games by pretending to be weak and then killing the remaining tributes with her axe. Delightful girl.” I rolled my eyes.

“Except for if she hates your guts. So try and get her to like you.” Peeta glanced at me.

“What do you mean?”

“If I know one thing about Johanna Mason, and I think I do. It's that she doesn't care about anyone or anything. And I'm pretty sure she has a hitlist and I'm number 1 on it.” 

Before they could answer, the doors opened again and they all got out without a word, leaving me alone to go down again. I leant against the glass, looking out to see peacekeepers crawling about like insects, escorts rushing around for no reason whatsoever, tributes and mentors staying well away from the two former as if they were the plague. The doors pinged open and I made my way down the corridor. I pushed through the double doors and was met with expectant looks from everyone. Mags, Lysander and Finnick all sat at the table. 

“I'm not hungry.” I said quickly before they could even ask me to sit. 

I practically ran to my room and threw myself on the bed, silk sheets scrunching up under my weight. The door clicked open and I looked up to see Megara standing there with an eyebrow raised.

“They want me to convince you to come out. But I've got better plans for tonight.” She pulled out two tubs of ice cream and a plate of intricately decorated cakes and biscuits. She set them down on the table and waved me over. 

“First of all, get changed. There's clothes in the drawers. Second, by my logic if they really wanted you to sit and eat dinner with them they would do it themselves. Third, I brought food,” She picked up a spoon and dug into a tub of ice cream, “And I'm not waiting for you to start. Plus,” She grinned, teeth coated in chocolate,”I want to know everything.”

Taglist:

@nekee-lilac02 @hinata7346 @bambikitten @the-lonely-abyss @mxacegrey @m-maxie-ie @not-aya @camatchoum @maw1dk @avoxrising @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @somdreamy @thehairington86 @millzluvrs @val-writesstuff @erindiggory @reader-bookling123 @elisa20beth @maxinehufflepuffprincess @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @mystargirl-interlude @ponkaniee @missunicorn @thatonegayloser616 @livibbu @cherrsnut @honethatty12 @purplelavin @user123453226780536 @littleanubis21

[jpmarvel90]

The Healer

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Word Count: 3588

Relationship: Natasha x Reader (but not really)

Summary: Y/n was a prisoner of Hydra where she was experimented on to give her the powers to heal. She was then forced to use those powers to heal any person Hydra sent her way. That was until the Avengers stormed the base she was held at. Surely her life would only get better from here....right?

Y/n's POV:

You'd think being an Avenger is a dream. Maybe for the others it is. But for me it's a nightmare. For the majority of my adult life, I had been held captive by Hydra. In that time, I was tortured and tested on. So much so that I now have the ability to heal people. I would dream for the day that I might escape and be able to use my powers for good, rather than healing those causing pain and destruction.

Then one day, the Avengers came and stormed the base I was being held in. Because of my powers, I was being forced to heal the wounded and when Tony Stark came across me, he assumed I was one of them. He knocked me out and I woke up in a new cell. Granted this one was slightly more comfortable.

Three months I spent in there, only being let out if it was to heal one of the team if they were hurt. I had tried to explain to them that I have never and will never support Hydra, but they wouldn't listen to me. I gave up in the end, realising that they would never listen or believe me. After some time had passed, Fury decided that I would become part of the Avengers or be sent straight to the raft. I obviously decided the former and soon was allowed out of my cell and into a room of my own. Not that I was ever permitted to leave the compound, except for missions.

I had hoped that over time, maybe I could earn the team's trust. That I could prove to them who I really am and maybe even make some friends. But I couldn't have been more wrong. None of them cared for me. I wasn't welcome at team meals. I was to eat on my own. So, you can imagine that I was never allowed to team building events or parties.

I was simply a healer to them. And an evil one at that. I was used to go on endless missions and heal anyone who was injured. From small cuts to stab and gun shot wounds. They had no care for the impact that it was having on my body. Each time I heal, it drains me. The more severe the injury, the long it would take for me to recover. But to the team, it was a price I had to pay for my sins.

I wasn't just sent on Avenger missions either. Any important Shield ones, I would be made to tag along. There were times I struggled to see the difference to Hydra. I was being used in exactly the same way but here, I had a more comfortable room. But I was still a prisoner, being used for powers I never asked for.

It didn't take me long to realise that I would never be able to show the team that I'm no threat and was taken against my will. Not even Wanda, who did actually volunteer to work with Hydra, gave me the time of day.

I would hear the snide comments and questioning of my worth. Then Steve would speak up and talk about how valuable I was. But not because of me as person, but because of my powers. If they could take my powers from me and give them to someone else, I know they would do it in a heartbeat and I would be locked away for life on the Raft.

I started to train myself to help with trying to keep my mental health in check. Some days it was hard to get out of bed. I'm ashamed that I have considered ending everything. Maybe I wasn't meant for this world. But then I would snap out of it and know that I have to fight. So, I taught myself how to. I wasn't too bad, and Steve found me one day and sparred with me. He was impressed and told me that I would be able to support in more than just a healing capacity. It didn't change his view of me as a person though.

So that's what happened. I was expected to fight alongside them, as well as heal them. Although my stamina increased overtime, I still couldn't control the impact on my body when healing someone. But once again. The team didn't care when I would practically crawl back onto the QuinJet. In fact, I'm sure they would leave me behind if they weren't so desperate for my healing abilities.

Today, we're heading out on a big mission. They have found one of the main Hydra bases. Our job is to go in, get intel and blow the place up. Natasha and Wanda will be going in and getting any information they need. Steve will plant the bombs, whilst the rest of us keep the Hydra agents busy.

There weren't too many injuries that I had to heal. Barton took a knife to the stomach, but it missed any vital organs, so wasn't too bad to heal, whilst Sam broke his arm when his wingsuit was taken out and he fell to the ground. It meant my energy was up and I was able to focus on fighting and making sure I did my job to the best of my ability.

As the fighting grew more intense, my comms crackled and I heard a shaky voice coming through. "Y/n. We need support in the comms room. Nat's been hit. I-it's bad." Wanda calls out.

Nat's POV:

This mission was going to be a huge success if we could take this base out. It was one of Hydra's 4 main bases. It would significantly affect their ability to carry out attacks on the scale they have been doing so.

Wanda and I were able to get inside relatively easily with the others fighting out the front. Wanda used her powers to deal with any agents we came across and protected me whilst I started to download as much information as I could. I then started looking through the rows of filing cabinets, hoping to find something useful. Whilst flicking through one of the draws, I see a picture of someone I recognise.

It's Y/n, though she looks far younger. Maybe 18. Intrigued, I start flicking through the file, but soon regret it when I read her history. My hand flies to my mouth and I gasp as I see the evidence that proved what Y/n had told us was true. She truly was a prisoner. Captured when she was 19 and held captive for 7 years. She wasn't born with her powers but was instead tested upon. My whole body fills with regret and I feel like I could be sick. We have treated her like the enemy for so long when she was the victim.

"What is it?" Wanda asks me as she appears by my side. "We were wrong about Y/n." I state, handing her the file, before running my hands through my hair. "Oh my God. She was telling the truth." She gasps herself at the realisation. "How could we treat her so badly. We basically have held her prisoner and forced her to heal us. It's no different to what Hydra were doing to her." I exclaim, anger building within me at how we treated someone who just needed our help.

"We can fix this. When this mission is over, we'll show this to the team, and we'll work to make this right." Wanda suggests. "Assuming she could ever forgive us." I mumble, knowing we have done far too much damage for her to easily accept our apology.

My guard is down as my mind races over all the horrible things I've said, that we've all said. I don't see the guards coming in the room behind us. Both Wanda and I are too late to react before two gun shots go off. I feel the burning instantly in my chest and stomach as my mouth starts to fill with blood. "NAT!" Wanda calls out, rushing in my direction. Not before using a blast of her red magic to end the agent that had managed to hit me.

My legs start to wobble, and I fall to the floor in a heap, my hands trying to stop the bleeding. Wanda drops to her knees and presses her hands down firmly on my wounds to help in the task, but it's all in vain as her own hands are soon painted in red. "We need Y/n." Wanda mumbles before activating her comms. Her eyes never leave me as they fill with tears. I know it's bad. I'm going to die if Y/n doesn't get here in time. "Y/n. We need support in the comms room. Nat's been hit. I-it's bad." Wanda calls out for our teammate. The one that we have failed so badly.

We're amazed at how quickly she gets here, she's out of breath as she drops to the floor besides me. I can feel my life slowly seeping away. "It's ok Agent Romanoff, I've got you." She smiles at me. I can never understand how she is so kind in these moments. She's soft and caring as she heals you. Then once it's done, we treat her like the enemy we thought she was.

"You guys need to get out of there. The bombs have been set and are due to detonate in a couple of minutes." Steve informs us and I see panic form in Wanda's eyes. "Go Miss Maximoff. I've got this." Y/n tells the witch. She's reluctant to leave as Y/n places her hands over my stomach to start healing. "GO! I promise that Agent Romanoff will be safe." She shouts, taking Wanda by surprise. Reluctantly, Wanda gets to her feet and walks backwards slowly. "I'll see you at the jet." She says, before running back through the building to safety.

I look to Y/n who is focusing on the job at hand. I can feel the warmth as my body starts to heal. Though with each passing second, I see Y/n's face become paler. Her eyes struggle to stay open and it's then I realise the real impact of healing someone does to her. Especially when they are so close to death. We've tortured her ourselves as we've forced her to heal us.

Her body suddenly crumples to the floor, and I look down to see my wounds completely healed, not even a scar. "Y/n, wake up. Stay with me." I say, moving to her side, tapping her face gently to get her to wake. Her eyes flutter open and I smile at her. "Thank you." I say, though my heart breaks at the affect my words have on her. I don't think we've ever thanked her for saving our lives. She's done it on numerous occasions.

"You both need to get out now. The bombs are due to detonate any second now." Steve yells down the comms. "Go." She indicates to me, but I shake my head. "Not without you." I tell her, wrapping my arm around her trying to lift her. She's a dead weight but I know I can carry her out. "Stop." She says firmly. "We won't make it if you try and get me out." She says with a look of acceptance on her face. "No, I won't leave you behind." I reiterate, but she uses what little strength she has to push me off her. "It was only a matter of time until I was no longer useful to you all. Go and save yourself." She snaps at me, and I realise that she thinks the only reason I'm saving her is because of her powers.

"No Y/n. I know the truth now. You deserve a happy life. One where you chose your destiny. I won't let you die here in this hell hole." I tell her firmly. "Mr Stark, are you able to come and get Agent Romanoff?" Y/n asks through the comms. "We're both getting out of here. Do you hear me?" I shout just as Tony confirms he's a minute out.

We feel the ground shake as the first bomb goes off, it's only a matter of time until they reach us. "Maybe my death will purge me of my sins." Y/n says through laboured breath. "No, you have nothing to atone for. We do. For how we've treated you. I'm so sorry Y/n. We never should have done what we did to you. It's unforgivable." I try to apologise to her, cupping her face.

Before I can say anything more, Tony blasts through a wall and grabs me in his arms. "Time to go Romanoff." He says but I fight to get out of his arms. "NO! Not without Y/n." I try to get back to the stricken girl on the floor. She can't die. Not like this. "We're going Romanoff. It's fitting that she should die in the place she called home." Tony snarls, making the anger boil within me as he runs out the hole in the wall he had just created.

Even with all my strength I can't get out of his grip, and I give in as he flies away. I watch the building below me getting smaller as we get further away. Just as we're out of danger I watch in horror as the building explodes. "NO!" I scream knowing that Y/n is in there. Tony lands and places me on the floor and is shocked when I start pushing him. "You left her there to die! You asshole!" I scream at him, my anger boiling over as the others come to see what the commotion is. "It was you or her Romanoff and that wasn't even a choice." Tony growls back at me.

"She was innocent!" I yell, taking them all by surprise. "She was telling the truth. She was never working for Hydra by choice. She was a prisoner who spent the majority of her time there being tortured. She would have thought she was free when we saved her, but instead we made her a prisoner of our own, using her for her powers." I rant angrily, tears falling down my cheeks.

"Come on Romanoff, she got to you. Just because she healed you doesn't mean you have to believe her." He argues back. "She's right. Y/n was telling us the truth. We've treated her like the enemy when really, she was the victim." Wanda backs me up. At our revelation, I watch as the others come to terms with what we've done. Steve's head drops as he pulls off his mask. Sam holds the arm the Y/n had not long ago healed whilst Clint looked like he had seen a ghost.

"How do we even know this is true. It could still all be some elaborate plan." Tony tries to dismiss the truth. I reach into my pocket where I had put her file and slammed it into his chest. "Read this and tell me you still feel the same." I spit at him. "We're meant to be the world's mightiest heroes. But how would people react when they hear how we treated a helpless prisoner." I fume, embarrassed by our actions.

I turn away from my team and look to the mountain of rubble in front of me. Maybe she's still alive. Maybe I can find her. With determination in my step and tears stinging my eyes, I start walking towards the rubble. "Where are you going?" Wanda calls after me. "To find her. Hopefully alive, but if not, she deserves a funeral. One showing the real hero she is." I shout back over my shoulder, my eyes locking on to the rough area she would have been.

I start moving the rubble with my bare hands, calling out for Y/n periodically. I'm praying that she responds to me, that she calls out and we're able to save her. Whilst I'm moving the rubble, I see a whisp of red, helping to move it out of the way. I look up to see Wanda, giving me a tight-lipped smile. "She's our teammate. We do this together." She tells me. Soon after the others join us, working to move as much as we can in the hopes of finding Y/n alive.

"Can you feel her at all?" I ask Wanda when we're no closer to finding her. She doesn't respond. She doesn't have to. The pain and regret in her eyes give me the answer I didn't want.

As time goes on, my hope starts to dwindle. She can't die like this. The last words said to her were out of such malice. She needs to know how much we appreciate her, how sorry we are and how much we want to make this up to her. I can see the hope fading for everyone, but we refuse to stop. Even when Fury sends Maria to get us back home. She's soon to join us, her own guilt building.

When I move a large bit of wood, I see a familiar tattoo. 98-321. Y/n has that tattoo. "OVER HERE!" I shout out to the others who are quick to head in my direction as I quickly work to remove the rubble on top of her, ignoring the blood and bruises forming on my hands. I manage to get her free and pull her into my lap whilst the others gather around. "Y/n? Y/n? Can you hear me? It's Natasha." I say to her, tapping her face. But unlike earlier, she doesn't wake.

With shaky hands, I move my two fingers towards her neck and press against her pulse point. I close my eyes tightly hoping to find any signs of life. Though if I really took in her body, I would have seen it would have been an impossible ask. "No." I whisper when I feel nothing.

I hold her close, her skin feeling cold against my touch. "I'm so sorry. Please come back to us. I'm sorry." I start to cry as I hold her limp body in my arms. I rest my head against her chest where her heart no longer beats. I don't care about the blood and dusty that is starting to cover my body. I just want to hold her, in the hopes that, by some miracle, she may understand how sorry we truly are.

"You were a hero Y/n and we didn't treat you like one. We let you suffer when you needed help more than anyone. I wish we could have saved you. Given you the life you deserved. I can only promise that we will never allow this to happen again. Believe me when I say you were seen, and your input to this team was invaluable. You have saved all our lives in some capacity or another. I'm sorry we couldn't do the same for you." I apologise to her through my tears.

A hand on my shoulder brings me back to the devastation around us. "We should go." Steve tells me, with a sad look on his face. He bends down and carefully takes Y/n in his arms. "Be careful with her!" I warn him and he nods. "We will treat her with the utmost respect. As late as that may well be now." He reassures me.

Wanda helps me to my feet, and we follow behind Steve as we make our way back to the QuinJet. The whole team is in shock. I watch as Steve lays Y/n on one of the medical beds and gently places a blanket over her. I quickly move to the seat next to her and hold her hand. I hate the idea of her being alone in this moment.

The journey back is silent as we mourn the loss of a teammate and the embarrassment and guilt settles. When we arrive at the compound a team is waiting to take Y/n's body away and I'm reluctant to allow it. I'm alive because of her. Yet she is dead because of me.

The next few days are dark. Wanda and I plan a service that Y/n deserves. We were able to trace some family. Her sister, Sam, talked of how Y/n was taken one night, and the police were never able to find her. They had assumed she was dead. She had asked why she didn't try and find her once she had managed to escape, and I had to admit that she wasn't permitted to. It's safe to say Sam wasn't too happy when she heard about how we treated her sister.

Despite that, she attended the service for her little sister. She held a lot of pain. I guess finding out that Y/n was alive all the way along only to learn she died like she did much have been hard.

The service was perfect, and the majority of Shield turned up for it. Word had gotten around about the truth and there was a great shame felt by many. None more so than me. I'm a spy, I pride myself on being able to see what others don't. But for some reason I was blinded to this. I could have saved her. She died because of me. It's something I'll never be able to forgive myself for. But I know, that I will never let anyone else be treated the same. I will also never allow anyone to forget that Y/n Y/l/n was the true hero of the Avengers.

[audrey-carr1]

The Heiress and the Lady of the House

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: You are a heiress who has no clue what you are doing with your life. You return to your grandmother's home that you inherited, and you happen to find a job at a familiar mansion. Shenanigans ensue. (Sorry I suck at summaries :P)

warnings: fem!reader, some kissing

Everyone stares in shock at the sight of Hetty catching and holding on to me. Quickly adjusting myself to an upright position, I get back to my feet with Hetty's hand momentarily steadying me. We lock eyes for a moment and murmur a quick "thank you" which Hetty acknowledges with a curt nod. I feel her hand slide down the length of my arm before she places it back at her side.

"Hetty is that your ghost power?" Flower asks

"I hope not, I was surely hoping it was banishing people to Hades," Hetty replies brushing imaginary dirt off of her sleeves.

"Still not funny, Hetty," Trevor says.

Hetty smirks to herself. "Well I guess there's only one way to be sure. Samantha!"

"Yes?" Samantha answers hurrying to Hetty's side. Hetty goes to grab the hand of her niece and is dismayed when her hand goes straight through.

"How can that be?" Hetty asks herself before grabbing my hand again. Hetty's hand doesn't fall through as it did with Sam's. I feel my cheeks grow warm at the touch, and I lightly clear my throat.

Everyone is looking in astonishment before Samantha chimes in.

"Well maybe (y/n) can do more than just see and talk to ghosts."

"You mean I can touch them too?"

"Well you can touch Hetty, and there's only one way to find out it's just limited to her," Pete replies holding out his hand.

I outstretch my own and firmly grasp his in a firm handshake. This cause another eruption of gasps.

"Oh my god, she can touch ghosts!" Alberta squeals and graps my free hand. She begins to admire and play with rings on my fingers.

"Oh, this day can't get any freakier!" Trevor exclaims

"What's with all of the, oh my god did another guest die?! Do we have another ghost on the property?"

"No, not dead," I say waving in his direction.

"Sass, this is (y/n). She is our new employee for the B&B who happens to be able to see you all and apparently can touch ghosts as well," Sam replies.

"Did she fall and hit her head?" Sass asks

"Why is everyone asking if I fell and hit my head? Does that happen a lot around here?" I ask Sam

Before she can answer Thor chimes in, "Only if vase on floor. Always watch your step,"

Over the next six months, I found myself right at home at Woodstone B&B, Sam and Jay often comment that I am a natural at running the business and keeping the ghosts entertained even if I often get involved with their shenanigans. While I've been there Sam and Jay have been able to renovate the basement to add more rooms as well as add a private space for all of the basement ghosts. This also allowed for a spare room to open upstairs, Sam and Jay converted it into a bedroom for whenever I worked overnight shifts.

"(y/n), Jay and I would like to ask you a question," Sam says approaching the front desk.

"I promise, I had nothing to do with Trevor creating more dating profiles. He is way more mischievous than he lets on," I quickly say.

"That is not what we were going to ask, but I'll talk to him about that," Sam says, " We were actually wondering how you felt about being left alone at Woodstone for an extended period. With how well we are doing here, we are thinking of expanding the business."

"Oh wow that's great! How long were you thinking of being gone?"

"4 months!" Jay says raising his fists in the air "Road trip!"

"Oh!" You say in surprise, "That it is a long time."

"We only ask because you seem right at home here, and you wouldn't be entirely by yourself since there is the intern that comes by. The restaurant is closed for renovations until we come back so you only have to worry about the B&B," Jay says trying to reassure me.

"I'm honored that you think that I can handle everything, and I think I'm up to the task. What's the worst that could happen?" I say.

"That is what TV people say before something bad happens," Thor says in passing.

"He has a point," Sam says

Now it's my turn to reassure them. "Nothing is going to happen, I have it all under control," I say.

"Great! We leave next week, and I'll be sure to go over all of the logistics that we usually take over before we leave. Now the only thing left is for me to tell everyone else," Sam says.

The day comes for Sam and Jay to leave, and I can't help but feel a little anxious about being left alone with such a responsibility. Thankfully, the first month has gone splendidly without any hiccups. As the first month draws to a close, I have begun to build strong bonds with the ghosts since I practically live with them now. Now Hetty allows me to watch Bodices and Barons with her, and she doesn't mind that she had to restart the series for me to catch up. Though I've been spending a lot of my time with the main 8, I find that I really enjoy my time with Hetty. We go on walks around the grounds. Surprisingly, Hetty tells me of her life growing up, and I relay stories of my own. Though we have grown up in vastly different time periods we are able to find some common ground. I remember when I mentioned a book that I wanted to read that was years out of print, Hetty surprised me by having Sam look for her original copy and allowing me to have it. Sam watched as Hetty smiled to herself as she watched me examine the book in great detail. Hetty tried to ignore that her heart skipped a beat when I gave her an award-winning smile and hugged her in gratitude.

In addition to building bonds, I discovered that I have more to my power than being able to reciprocate touch with the ghosts. I have found out that if I've touched a touching an item, the ghosts can temporarily use it. This new discovery has me spending time learning and singing songs with Alberta at the piano. Thor teaches me how to hunt with spears, and I help Flower catch butterflies in the mornings and fireflies in the evenings. Pete helps me with my archery, and he is amazed to find that I have a natural talent with a bow and arrow. He helps to set up harder obstacles which in turn helps my "hunts" in the woods with Thor. Sass helps me make homemade pizzas, and Trevor convinces me to invest in stocks.

Trevor and I also spend time playing games on the Nintendo Wii. He's trying to convince me to get a PlayStation so we can both play other sport-related games.

Isaac and I enjoy rewatching and quoting Jurassic Park movies. I recently ordered dinosaur figurines and dioramas for us to put together. We have actually just finished putting together the first dinosaur diorama. After we've talked about the next one to start, he retires to bed once he's sure I've safely put the completed one on the shelf. After he leaves, I ask for the "Alexa" to the orchestral version of "So This is Love" while I clean up the living room. I have yet to put the couch back in its usual place as Twister took up much of my free afternoon since no guests were booked for today. As I down the last bit of wine in my glass, I'm are startled by a voice.

"You seem to be quite at home," Hetty says entering the room.

"Oh dear," I say placing a hand on my chest," Sorry I didn't hear you come in. Do you want me to turn on Bodices and Barons for you? Isaac and I are finished for the night."

"No I'm quite alright, thank you" Hetty responds," I quite enjoy the music you're playing. It reminds me of the parties I used to throw and attend. If there's anything I miss, it's the dancing."

"You dance?" I blurt out quickly, " Sorry, that must be the wine talking. I didn't mean for that to come out as a surprise,"

Hetty smiles to herself, "Dancing and painting were my favorite pastimes."

As I set down my wine glass, I make a mental note to acquire paints, brushes, and canvas for Hetty the next time I go to the store.

"I wish I could dance. I mean I have rhythm, but I've learned how to formally," I tell her.

"Would you like me to teach you?" Hetty asks. Hetty isn't sure why she feels like she's holding her breath while waiting for me to answer. I notice her begin to secretly fidget with her hands.

"I would like that very much," I answer brushing my hands on the skirt of my sundress.

Hetty outstretches her hand and I place mu hand in hers.

"Now place your other hand on my shoulder, and I'll place my hand here," Hetty instructs. I feel her hand lightly touch mu lower back.

Soon Hetty and I effortlessly glide across the room in rhythm. Hetty does not miss a beat as the song changes to "Once Upon A Dream". Hetty continues to guide me through familiar steps occasionally adding new ones while Lana Del Rey's voice fills the room.

"I'm going to spin you now, be ready," Hetty warns.

but if i know you I'll know what you do you'll love me at once the way you did once upon a dream ah ah

Hetty and I giggle as she spins me out and pulls me back into her. Never have I found myself feeling so at peace with someone else. Hetty had expected you to be slightly clumsy after the wine, but she is amazed that you've managed to keep your wits about yourself.

"Fantastically done, (y/n). You are not a poor student after all," Hetty teases.

"And you are not a poor teacher either," I tease back. I look up from my feet to meet Hetty's gaze.

I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem

I feel my heart flutter while we hold each other's gaze. I've been this close to Hetty before, but I've never noticed that she smells of bergamot and white tea. If it weren't for the wine, I'd be intoxicated by her scent alone. I feel Hetty pull in a little closer, her thumb stroking the small of my back.

But if I know you, I know what you'll do You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream

Our faces inch closer together, our lips almost touching when we hear Isaac begin to speak.

"(y/n), do you-," He watches Hetty and I quickly break apart "Am I interrupting something?”

Hetty wants so desperately to say yes, but she shakes her head no. She doesn't trust her words to not come out with a hint of irritation.

"Hetty was teaching me to dance," I glance towards Hetty to see her messing with the white collar of her dress. I'm almost certain I saw blush creep on her cheeks, but I blame my vision on the wine.

"I just wanted to ask if you knew how many guests we were expecting this week,"

"I'm not sure off the top of my, but I can for sure tell you in the morning," I tell him. Satisfied with that answer, Isaac bids us both good night and leaves.

"If you'll excuse me, I think I'll retire as well," Hetty says turning to leave. I quickly grab her hand and she turns her head towards me, her eyes slightly wide in surprise at the gesture.

" Thank you for the dance, Hetty." I rush out unsure of what else to say. I do know that I just want a few more uninterrupted moments with her.

She squeezes my hand before saying, "You are very welcome my dear."

I quickly stand on the tips of my toes to place a kiss on Hetty's cheek. Before I can fully turn away, she spins me into her and kisses me once and then twice. Her hands cup the sides of mu face before pulling me in closer at the waist.

Hetty almost forgetting you're living, is the first to break apart to give you air, and she smirks as she hears you whimper at the loss. Hetty begins to admire her handiwork. How your lips are swollen and wet, and your eyes are still shut in a state of bliss. She reaches up and brushes her thumb across them. She presses one last chaste kiss to my lips.

"Good night, my dear," Hetty purrs in my ear before leaving me in the middle of the room breathless and stunned.

-END of Part 2-

A/N: I have rewritten this part so many times. Sorry for getting your hopes up about a Hetty ghost power! I'm not sure I want to give her one since hers is still unknown. But if I do I need to give her a kick-ass power, so I need time to think. See y'all in part 3!

[lunalillyhbhb]

Roommates Ch.2

It's the middle of the night when I hear a faint knock on my door, awaking me from my sleep. I groggily open my eyes, feeling my heart thrum gently at 94 bpm, unaware of who could possibly be knocking at this time. I hear the door knob jangle ever so softly. Shit. Did I lock my door? I don't think so.... I've never locked it before unless I'm leaving. Shit. The door's unlocked.

I hear the hinges creak as the assailant enters my room, opening slowly so as to not make any noise. My heartbeat, already fast, picks up even more, slowly beginning to squeeze harder. I hold my breath which in turn further accelerates my the pounding, and I curse my reactive heart. What if she's beating loud enough for the person to hear? Do they know I'm awake?

I wait with baited breath, as I slightly shift my eyes in the direction of the noise. I see a rough outline of a man, taller than me by at least a foot maybe, with lean muscular arms hidden beneath a loose shirt.

It's.... my roommate? What's he doing inside?

He meanders to my table, and I hear the contents getting gently pushed around....he's looking for something. My wallet? No.... I've never kept my wallet out in the open like that.

"...shit...where is it?" I hear him curse under his breath. "...aha!" He whispers, loud enough to have woken up anyone who could have been sleeping. If he was level-headed, he'd know that any normal person would've woken up by now. My fear slowly turns into curiosity as I wonder, what was he looking for in my room?

I see him fiddle with whatever item he's found for a while, and he slowly tip toes his way to my bed. My heart which had just started to calm down, starts pounding in my chest. What is he going to do with me? Should I scream?

I feel a dip form beside my and I close my eyes shut, hoping he's buying my act of sleeping, praying my heart isn't vibrating the mattress. I hear soft clacking sounds and rubber, and feel my shirt getting pulled up.

Oh God.... Am I in danger? And I'm not wearing a bra right now.... What does he want to do with me?

Cold fingers touch my torso and I do everything in my power to not flinch. The fingers gently slide over my stomach, slowly making his way to the space between my breasts.... His gentle caress displays no malice. For some strange reason, I feel safe.

His fingers gently press into my sternum and suddenly I remember my heart, beating frantically in anticipation. Is he...feeling my heart?

"....there you are. Found you" he mumbles under his breath. I suddenly feel something cold and circular press into my tricuspid valve.

It's a sensation I'd know anywhere immediately, one which has provided me with comfort and pleasure.

It's my stethoscope.

He's stething me.

He inhales sharply and stays absolutely still. I imagine the sounds of my drum permeating through him. pounding so loud at this point it could deafen his ears. What does he think of her? Does he like her? Is she singing for him? I too want to listen to her so badly.

My heart contracts more forcefully, and I feel the steth bouncing off my chest, pushing away his fingers with each pump, thudding with such intensity.....I've never felt her beat like this. She's never done this for me, but for him she suddenly changed..... What is he doing to her?

What does he think of her??

"......Wow. You're so.....so beautiful" he mumbles.

My heart throbs in my clit, and I feel a familiar wetness between my legs, pleasure coursing through my veins, fueling my pleasure with each hammering beat inside me, pounding so hard I can feel it down. My fingers itch to touch myself, to see how far I can push my heart, show him just how desperate my little slut of a heart can beat for him. But I can't, not right now. According to him, I'm still "asleep"

"Christ.... your heart..... she's pounding so hard in my hand"

Yes I know! Please, please praise her more!

"ughh..... I wish you could feel what these beautiful beats are doing to me... SEE what it's doing to me..... No... no I need to take care of this."

He suddenly gets up, bed creaking loudly, still not expecting me to be awake. He drops my precious steth into the chair and in a hurry makes his way outside. Just before he softly shuts the door, from the corner of my eye, I see a bulge in his pants.

Did I do that to him? Did my attention whore pump do this to him?

Will he.....come by again?

As soon as I hear my door click, my fingers plunge into my pleasure zone, sliding inside so easily with how wet and dripping I was. I cover my mouth with the other hand, unable to curb the moans peeling through my entire body as I am hit with waves of pleasure, chest heaving heavily as beads of sweat form. My needy heart, devoid of the sudden attention cries out for him, slapping inside messily, squeezing herself dry with each powerful beat till the point my chest hurts.

I am filled with the need to hear him, to properly introduce him to my heart, and to properly help him through with what my heart does to him. It's the least I can do.

[honeybeefae]

shower sex with cass? btw, love this idea and your writing ❤️

Soapy Surprise (Cassian x Reader)

BINGO: Shower Sex

(Another fun one and I know I’ve said this before but I am a Cassian girly. I love him. I loved this. Also, I can't believe we haven't gotten a bingo yet?! Enjoy!)

WARNINGS: Smut

“I totally won.” You laughed as you walked into the cabin, stomping your feet to remove the snow that still clung to your boots. “No wonder you always are in last place for the annual snowball fight. You suck.”

Cassian rolled his eyes as he walked in behind you, shaking his head that was wet with snow. “I let you win, kid. If I unleashed my full power you wouldn’t be able to participate in the actual fight.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.” You grinned while shrugging off your heavy jacket. The cabin was quiet, the rest of your group out doing their own thing while leaving the two of you alone. You didn’t mind though nor did Cassian. The two of you had become fast friends since you first met and everything was just easy when it came to him.

You rubbed your hands together and glanced over at him, surprised to see he was already watching you. He gave you a small smile that made your heart beat faster but you ignored it. You weren’t going to look into anything that could cause your friendship harm.

“I’m gonna go warm up in the shower but I’ll be down in ten, okay?” You say while pointing your finger at him. “Do not drink all my wine again.”

“Yes ma’am.” He nodded, giving you a two-finger salute which made you snort. You quickly ascended the stairs and picked the largest bathroom in the house, shutting the door behind you. The thought of locking it made you pause but you ignored it, knowing Cassian wouldn’t let anything happen to you. 

The bathroom was made for the Illyrians but you greedily used it whenever you could. It had a giant skylight and bathtub underneath it that was large enough to fit their wings comfortably while the shower had a rainfall head and glass doors that made it steam up nicely. You were half tempted to ask Rhys who built it so you could have one in your apartment.

Your clothes were difficult to get off due to the wetness but eventually you shucked them off, leaving them in a small pile by the door. The only sound in the room was the soft pads of your feet as you turned the water on and waited for it to heat up. 

Steam quickly filled the room and you took a deep breath, enjoying the way the heat immediately began to warm your skin as you stepped into the scalding water. You closed your eyes and let it run over your bare skin, tipping your head back and relaxing your shoulders.

As you started your washing routine you missed the door opening from how loud the shower was. The glass door opened behind you and you only noticed when a cool breeze hit the back of your body.

“What the fuck?!” You shouted, trying to cover yourself when you saw Cassian beginning to undress. “Cassian what the hell are you doing?”

“Relax!” He griped, tossing his boxers behind him and stepping into the giant shower. You flattened yourself against the wall, your head turned to the side as you looked up at the ceiling to avoid staring at him. “I was cold as hell and thought I would join you.”

“I am naked Cassian.” You growled, questioning his common sense as he brushed off your concerns.

“I could care less, Y/N. I just wanted to wash myself really quick and this is the only shower that can fit me. In fact, why didn’t you go to a different shower?” He cocked his head, watching as you turned around in anger and disbelief.

“Because I called dibs on the shower first, idiot!” You argued, not even caring that your body was now fully exposed. “If you would learn to wait your turn this wouldn’t be happening.”

“Well, regardless, I’m not leaving. So either suck it up and be an adult or leave.” He smirked, grabbing your shampoo to begin washing his hair. You swore you saw red as you snatched it out of his hand.

“I’m not leaving, I was here first.” You frowned, turning back around to finish washing the suds out of your hair. “Just…stay on your side.”

“No problem, kid. Just keep your eyes at an appropriate level.” He snickered, dodging the bottle of shampoo that you threw at his head. 

The two of you took your showers in relative silence, both of you sneaking glances when you thought the other couldn’t see, but just as you were about to finish up Cassian cleared his throat.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” He said softly, his wings dropped so he could see you over his shoulder. You raised an eyebrow and lightly shook your head. 

“I swear to the Mother if you ask me to wash your d-” You began but stopped when he shouted before you could finish your sentence, smiling as his face grew red.

“You need to get your mind out of the gutter. I just need you to wash the bottom of my wings.” Cassian rolled his eyes, holding out the washcloth. However you hesitated, the air suddenly growing thick. You knew how sensitive their wings were and how selective they were about who touched them. Cassian himself had told you about it.

“Are you…are you sure?” You asked slowly, gingerly taking the rag. He nodded and extended his wings outwards.

“I’m not a barbarian, kid. I can control myself. Just do it quick and don’t make it weird.” 

You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, trying to rationalize it in your mind before you could chicken out. It was just one naked friend helping another naked friend wash a hard-to-reach spot. Nothing weird about it…right?

Your fingers shook as you started on his left wing, stopping briefly when he tensed before pushing through to get it over with. The tension was building quickly as you did your best to wipe thoroughly yet softly, not wanting to tear the delicate skin. He was stiller than you had ever seen him as you tried to control your breathing.

As you finished up the left side and began to go to the right you caught a very brief glance of his cock. It was hard and standing proudly, itching to be stroked. Both of his hands were fisted at his side as you waivered over his right wing.

“Cassian I can-” You began but he snapped at you, his voice straining.

“Just hurry up.” He snapped, his back muscles flexing as you bit down on your lip and nodded. The sight of him hard was burning in your eyes but not painfully. No, you liked it. You would have to be blind to not see how handsome he was but you also didn’t want to ruin your friendship with him.

Sex complicated things and you didn’t want that, no matter how much you did want him. It was your dirty little secret and you weren’t going to bring it to light. 

He shuddered when you ran the soft material along the inner ridge, his cock jumping in need. You felt a mix of desire and guilt in your gut, knowing this was just a natural reaction and he probably was embarrassed. 

You finished up the rest of your cleaning at record speed, practically throwing the rag back at him and mumbling something about needing to get downstairs. As you began to walk past him you felt an iron grip wrap around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

The water was still hot as you waited there, holding your breath. Cassian tightened his grip for a brief moment before he let you go, his hand falling back to his side. You hated the way you wish he had pulled you into him.

You made the mistake of looking back at him and you couldn’t stop your eyes from falling to his cock, a sharp wave of arousal going straight to your pussy as you swiftly raised them back up to his face. It was too late, of course. He could smell you.

And before you could plead your innocence or apologize you felt him grab your hip and pull you into his wet body. Cassian’s face was tilted down as he watched you, water droplets running down his chest as he clenched his jaw in restraint.

“This shower was a mistake.” He whispered, cupping your face softly and running his thumb over your cheek. “We need to get out and pretend this didn’t happen.”

Neither one of you moved.

Your mind was screaming at you to run, to save whatever scrap of friendship would still be alive after this encounter before it was ruined forever. However, with the way he was looking at you and how good his body felt against yours, you ignored it.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked softly, opening your mouth when his thumb caught your bottom lip. He slipped it inside and you rolled your tongue around it, drunk off the scent of his musk and your own arousal. 

Cassian groaned as the feeling went straight to his cock. He swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing before he dipped his head down so that his forehead was against your own. You sighed when he removed his thumb, peeking up at him through your eyelashes as the two of you stood at the point of no return.

“Whatever you want…just touch me.” His voice was now desperate as he closed his eyes in anticipation. You waited for a brief moment before raising up on your tiptoes to kiss him, your hand wrapping around his large cock to test the waters.

He hissed through his teeth from your soft touch, his hips involuntarily bucking. You couldn’t believe how pent up he already was so you decided to take mercy on him, stroking him as you moved your lips across his face.

You dipped down to his collarbone and nipped at the thin skin, enjoying the red marks that appeared in your wake. He was barely hanging on by a thread as you jacked him off, the size difference alone making him want to bend you over and break you. 

One of his hands was lazily running up and down your back as you stepped closer to him, your own juices coating your inner thighs as you used your free hand to stroke the front of his wings. Cassian growled a warning but you just gave him a smug smirk, feeling totally in control as you took the tips of your fingernails and ran it all the way down.

“If you don’t stop soon, I’m going to cum.” He grunted, nostrils flaring as you increased the speed of your strokes.

“Do it, Cass.” You taunted, gazing up at him through heavy lids. “Cum all over my hand. Be a good boy for me.”

The boldness of your words surprised you but you both loved it, his lip catching between his teeth as he lost himself in the feeling of you pleasuring him. You watched in anticipation, wanting to see the face he made as he spilled his seed, and when you used the pad of your thumb to swipe under the pink head he lost it.

Your name fell off his lips like a prayer as he threw his head back and groaned, his hips following your hand as he came all over your hand and stomach. It was one of the hottest things you had ever seen and did nothing to cure the ache between your legs, noting how his cock stayed hard even after he had stopped thrusting.

His chest was rising and falling quickly as he looked down at you, a primal hunger in his eyes that had your own breath catching in your throat. You dropped your hand and took a step back but Cassian was quick to pull you towards him, moving so that you were trapped between his body and the wall.

“Your turn.” He whispered, smirking as his wings surrounded the two of you. 

[subliminalbo]

I used to tell myself that I wasn't like other girls. I know, gross cliche. But so sincere was I in my belief that I thought that it was the fundamental thing that made me Andrea Rubin.

Listen: I've never really been good with people. The transition to college was hard for me. I didn't like dressing up, I didn't like going out. Maybe I would convince myself from time to time that a hook up was a good idea, but a boy never did anything for me that I couldn't do better by myself.

You'd think that with all that time alone, I'd be on track to graduate with honors. Fuck, on track to graduate at all. But I was a shit student too. Not so much in the "peaked in high school, bounced out of college in sophomore year" way, but more so in a "super senior without a major" kind of way. Yeah.

My life before I started working for Dr. Fielding is what an academic advisor describes as "rudderless." A lot of single seat tickets at the college theater, nights spent locked in my room absorbing trivia by way of podcast.

I didn't mean to find my purpose in Dr. Fielding, but I didn't really have a choice, either. She has a way of reshaping things for you.

Alright, let's just call it what it is. I'm not her employee, I'm her slave. Once she's in your head, there's no escaping her. I exist now solely as an instrument of her will.

And yeah, it pisses me off. It pisses me off that she sets me free after every job. I have to live my life as if nothing's happened, waiting for the phone call that overrides everything else. All I need is to hear her voice on the other end of the line to drag me down instantly into her service.

I'm not the only one either. Dr. Fielding has favorite conquests. Like the crazy sorority president who brainwashed half of Greek life on campus, or that stage hypnotist who thought she could get the better of the doctor. Her favorites are the ones who fight even after they're under her power. Some of them fight like hell, and that's what makes the conquest worth it.

The vast majority are not fighters. I've seen dozens of patients enter Dr. Fielding's office and they all leave with that same expression on their faces. Empty, uncritical, obedient eyes. I see their faces and I know that it's exactly how I look when she's done with me.

How can I tell myself that I'm not like other girls when I'm not even a favorite? I've given up on fighting. I know that this power she holds over me is total and there is no escape.

I don't even know who Andrea Rubin is anymore. I am whoever Dr. Fielding needs me to be. She can dress me up like her doll and I'll crave to be played with. If she needs me to be an honor student I'll pick up a textbook. If it's a brainless bimbo, I'll empty my head and fill my mouth.

The scariest part of all of this is that I lose more of myself every time she puts me under. It gets harder to go home after work. I want to be me. I want to be hers. My only pleasure is in serving her. I am nothing without my purpose. I'm nothing without her direction. I am nothing without...

Fuck! Fuck, I'm cumming! I'm cumming for you, Dr. Fielding! Oh god, fuck!

Fuck.

fuck.

Okay, breathe in, long exhale.

Jesus, I've got to get my shit together before I actually lose it completely.

[nomie-11]

Chapter 12 - Above the Clouds, Beneath the Earth

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The sky was still dark, still full of stars, when Genevieve woke up in the morning. Tairn had promised her an early morning flight, so she could see the sunrise from his back, above the clouds and mountains. She made sure to be quiet as she snuck out of her room, her steps light as she opened the door. 

“AH!” She yelped, jumping out of her skin when she opened the now locked door to her bedroom, just to find Liam sitting outside of the door. “What in Gods’ name are you doing outside my door!? Isn’t your room right next to mine?” 

But clearly Xaden had other plans for her. 

“Xaden wants a centinel outside your door at night until he can trust that you actually lock your doors, so here I am,” Liam shrugged, stretching the stiffness and sleep out of his body. “Garrick, Bodhi, Xaden, and I, all take shifts,” He paused, looking up at Genevieve in the doorway. “Do you think Violet will like this figurine I made of Astrape?”

The little wooden figurine in his palm was adorable, but Genevieve was too focused on the fact that she had a guard now. 

“This is insanity, go back to your room,” Genevieve started, her tone final, but Liam didn’t move. “I don’t need a guard sitting outside of my room at night. We’ve already discovered that I can handle myself.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Liam says, his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just here because Xaden asked me to. If anything, shoot Xaden.” 

“I’m not going to shoot Xaden or you,” she groaned, running a hand over her face. It’s too cold outside to be thinking harder than with slight reasoning, and all she wanted was to go outside and ride her dragon into the sunrise, but no. “Can you just let me go outside now?”

Liam laughed, his voice light as he stood up. 

“Alright, alright,” He said, moving away from her doorway. “But I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why?” Genevieve asked, exasperated by the circumstances. “I’ll be with Tairn. I won’t die.”

“I have a dragon, too, you know. You’ll never know I was even there if that’s what you want. I’m just going to come with you.” 

Genevieve ran a hand through her hair, trying to suppress her irritation. She could already feel the familiar pressure of the day beginning to weigh on her, despite the dark sky and the promise of escape on Tairn’s back. 

“You’re not going to let me fly alone, are you?” she asked, although she already knew the answer. 

Liam smiled, his expression a mix of amusement and apology, but so charming that it usually disarmed people. “Not a chance. Xaden would have my head. Besides, a little company will do you good, and you still get your sunrise.”

“That’s not the point,” she muttered, crossing her arms, her mind racing for a way out. “I just… I need some space, Liam. Some time to breathe.” 

Liam’s smile faltered slightly, his eyes softening with understanding. “I get it. Really, I do. But Xaden is just trying to look out for you. After what happened… Well, no one’s going to take any chances. Especially not him.” 

Genevieve clenched her jaw. Of course. The incident with the cadets. She’d killed three people in her own room. Lost control. And now everyone saw her as a ticking time bomb. She sighed, gesturing for Liam to step into her room as she returned to grab her flight gear. 

The thought of Xaden assigning her a gear, after everything that had already happened, filled her with a simmering annoyance. She had survived captivity, trained under the most brutal conditions, and yet here he was–deciding she needed to be babysat. But then again, after the incident with the cadets and her newfound, uncontrollable powers, maybe Xaden had a point. Not that she’d admit it. 

Train’s voice rumbled in her mind, low and slightly amused. “It’s not the worst idea. You haven’t exactly mastered your abilities yet, and neither of us wants a repeat of what happened yesterday.” 

“I don’t need a reminder,” she shot back, pulling on her boots. “And I don’t need a guard either. This is ridiculous.” 

“Perhaps,” Train replied, his tone nonchalant. “But would it kill you to let someone have your back?” Genevieve paused at that, staring at her reflection in the small mirror above her dresser. Her eyes were tired, the dark circles under them a reminder of sleepless nights and endless battles–both physical and emotional. The truth was, she had spent so long relying on herself, fighting her own demons in silences, that the idea of someone else watching her back felt foreign. And maybe a little too dangerous. 

She shoved the thought aside and grabbed her jacket, throwing it over her shoulders as she stepped to the doorway where Liam was waiting. He was leaning against the doorframe, inspecting the figurine of Astrape. 

“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered. 

Liam grinned, pushing off the wall and falling into step beside her as they made their way to the flight field. 

“Just so you know, I don’t snore,” he said casually. 

Genevieve raised an eyebrow. “And why would I need to know that?” 

“Because I have a feeling Xaden’s going to keep this little guard situation going for a while,” Liam teased. “You might as well get used to me being around.” 

“You are not sleeping in my room,” she grumbled, her responses a low growl as they reached the flight field. But the moment her eyes caught sight of Tairn, the irritation melted away. His massive form was silhouetted against the faintest hint of dawn on the horizon, his dark scales shimmering under the starlight. There was a quiet power in his presence, and for a moment, Genevieve felt the weight of everything lift–just a little. 

Tairn dipped his head as she approached, his golden eyes gleaming. “Ready?” 

Genevieve nodded, feeling the familiar surge of excitement at the thought of flying. She placed her hands against his warm scales, and with a fluid motion, climbed onto his back. 

Liam followed suit, his dragon appearing from the shadows with a low rumble. Deigh was smaller than Tairn, but no less impressive. Her sleek, red body cutting through the early morning as she stood proud for Liam to mount. 

“Try to keep up,” Genevieve called out over her shoulder, a faith smile tugging at her lips. 

Liam laughed, unbothered. “Race you to the clouds.” 

With a sharp motion, both dragons launched into the air, their wings beating powerfully against the cold morning wind. Genevieve held tight to Tairn as they soared higher, the ground quickly disappearing beneath them. The sky opened up before them, vast and endless, and for the first time in days, she felt free. 

As they climbed above the clouds, the horizon began to glow with the first light of dawn. Breaking through the clouds, the sky opened up before them in a blaze with colors–deep purples, fiery oranges, and soft pinks blending together in a breathtaking display. Genevieve’s heart swelled at the beauty of it all. The stars reflected the twinkling of her heart as she laid back and watched them disappear in the light. 

For now, there was just the sky, the wind, and the sunrise. 

“You fly, and the world falls away,” Tairn murmured in her mind. 

And that was exactly what she needed. A moment where the weight of her responsibilities could disappear, even if it was just for a little while. She could pretend, up in the clouds, that she wasn’t a spy, that her heart wasn’t constantly torn between loyalty, revenge, and something far more dangerous. 

Up here, she was just Genevieve. No spies. No traitors. No guards, except for Liam who kept true to his promise of keeping his distance. Just her and Tairn, flying free. 

“You will always have this,” Tairn whispered, his voice a comforting rumble. “No one can take this from you.”

But as the sun rose, a part of her knew it was only a matter of time before she had to come back down. Back to reality, back to Xaden confusing her heart, back to lies and half-truth that filled every corner of her life. 

————————————————-

“Hale!” Professor Carr exclaimed, a sickening expression of joy and excitement on his face. “It’s our first signet training lesson one on one! Isn’t this exciting?” 

“Call me Genevieve,” She said, her voice snapping. 

His eyes flashed with annoyance. 

“I just want to see what you can do today, especially since you tried to hide your signet from me.” He said, and his voice was sickeningly soft and sweet. A horrible contrast to the man who used to spit at her when she was captive. “I knew that with a dragon like Tairn you would be powerful.” 

Genevieve nodded, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. 

Her squad and Xaden had tried to keep her signet under wraps, tried to make sure that no one knew how dangerous she was becoming, but it's hard to hide the vines that seem to always be creeping up her legs every time she stood still for too long, and it's hard to hide the flowers that bloomed after every step she took on ground besides stone and wood. 

“We’re going to start your training with a simple test,” Professor Carr said, his voice dripping with condescension. “You see, I want to feel what you can do. Unleash your signet, Hale. Let’s see if you can handle it without, well…” He paused for dramatic effect, grinning like a predator, “killing anyone this time.” 

Genevieve’s jaw clenched, the memory of the cadet’s lifeless bodies flashing through her mind. Her fingers twitch involuntarily, and she balled them into fists to keep the vines from appearing too soon. 

“Relax, Hale,” Carr crooned, stepping closer. His presence felt suffocating, too familiar. “Or should I say Genevieve? You were so much more… compliant under General Sorrengail’s care. Have you forgotten how to be obedient?” 

Her heart pounded in her chest, a wave of nausea rolling over her as the memories of her captivity rushed back—the dungeon, General Sorrengail’s smile, the darkness that seemed to swallow her whole. But she wasn’t that girl anymore. She had Tairn now. She had power.

And yet, that power terrified her more than Carr ever could. And she needed him to learn how to control it. 

So, taking a deep breath, she focused on the ground around her, willing the vines to stay dormant, and for the ones she had already sprouted to retreat back into the earth. In her mind, the image of their threads of life were woven back into the blanket of the earth instead of manipulated into her own thread of life. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But she could already feel them stirring, breaking out of her weak control, responding to her rising anger. 

“Go ahead,” Carr taunted, his voice a low whisper. “Show me what Lilith’s little pet has become.”

Genevieve snapped. Her vision blurred as the ground beneath her cracked open, vines erupting from the earth, spiraling towards Carr with a speed that startled even her. He flinched, his smug grin faltering as the tendrils coiled around his feet, tightening with each passing second. 

Tairn’s voice echoed in her mind, a deep, rumbling presence. “Control it, little soldier. Don’t let him bait you.”

But the vines continued to rise, dark flowers blooming in their wake, their petals shimmering with an unnatural sheen. Carr’s eyes widened in fear, and for a moment, Genevieve relished the panic in his expression. 

“Stop this!” Carr said, forcing his voice to be strong, but his eyes gave way to the terror that her vines were causing. All the arrogance was drained from his face as the vines twisted higher, nearing his throat. 

Genevieve hesitated, her breath ragged, the fury coursing through her veins like wildfire. She could end this. She could make him pay for every moment of her suffering, for every cruel word and sickening smile. 

But something inside her wavered. This wasn’t who she wanted to be. She wasn’t General Sorrengail. She wasn’t a monster. Even if she wanted to kill him, he’s the only man alive who is trained to figure out how signets work. She needs him. 

With a sharp inhale, she closed her eyes and willed the vines to release. Slowly, they retreated, slithering back into the earth, the flowers withering and crumbling into dust as she took life back. 

Carr stumbled back, his face pale with shock. But his grin was sinister, evil almost. 

“Good, Hale,” He said, his voice disgustingly shallow. “Do it again. Focus on that target,” he gestured to a dummy across the field from her. “And will those vines to fight. Life Weaving is about giving life and taking it too.” 

Genevieve's hands trembled as she released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. The ground still felt alive beneath her feet, pulsing with energy, but she wasn’t ready to unleash it again. Not yet. She had to remember her goal—control. She was no use to anyone if she couldn’t rein in her power, no matter how satisfying it would be to strangle the life out of Carr. 

Her eyes flickered toward the dummy, its lifeless form a far cry from the man in front of her, yet it stirred the same sick sense of hatred. Life and death, she thought, a bitter taste on her tongue. Carr made it sound so simple, so mechanical, but it wasn’t just life and death. It was everything in between. 

“You think this is some kind of game?” She snapped, eyes narrowing at Professor Carr. “I’m not your puppet.” 

His eyes flickered toward her, still carrying that disgusting amusement, but now there was a trace of something darker beneath it. Fear. “Oh, but you are, Hale. You’re the best weapon we’ve ever had, and deep down, you know it. That’s why General Sorrengail kept you locked up. You’re dangerous. Even she knew you would become something she couldn’t control.” 

Genevieve’s chest tightened at his words, the weight of them pressing against her ribs. She had spent over a year under Lilith’s thumb, every day a reminder of how powerless she’d felt. And now, here she was, faced with the power she had always dreamed of, but the cost of wielding it felt heavier than she’d imagined. 

Carr’s eyes flickered to the dummy in the distance. “You need to understand your abilities. Control means understanding when to take and when to give. That’s the difference between you and General Sorrengail. She knew exactly how much she could take before she had to give something in return.” 

Genevieve gritted her teeth. Lilith had been methodical, cold, ruthless—but she wasn’t the General. She wasn’t going to become her. 

But the vines, they were an extension of her now. She could feel them, like a second pulse under her skin, ready to spring forth at her command. Carr was right about one thing: she needed control or the power would consume her. 

“I think you underestimate how much I’m holding back,” Genevieve shot back, her voice cold as ice. 

Tairn’s presence surged in her mind, steady and grounding. “You control this. Don’t let him get under your skin. He wants you to lose control—don’t give him the satisfaction.”

But Carr’s smug expression was a taunt all on its own, every word out of his mouth pushing her closer to that edge. She turned her gaze to the dummy, focusing her power, trying to draw on the same force she’d just unleashed without letting it overwhelm her. Her palms grew warm, the air around her humming with tension as the earth stirred once more. Vines snake from the ground, slower this time, more deliberate. She focused on each tendril, guiding them towards the target. 

“Faster,” Carr barked. “You’re not weaving life, you're playing with it like a child. Do it again.” 

Genevieve’s control faltered as his words cut through her concentration. Her pulse quickened, and the vines sped up, twisting violently as they reached the dummy, wrapping around its wooden form. The flowers bloomed again, dark and deadly, their petals shimmering under the sun. She gritted her teeth, trying to rein them in before they consumed everything in sight. 

“Better,” Carr said, stepping closer, inspecting her work. “But not good enough. You’re holding back, Genevieve. You can feel it, can’t you? That raw power waiting just beneath the surface. Stop trying to control it—unleash it. Or are you afraid of what you might become?” 

She glared at him, chest heaving as she fought to maintain control. “I know exactly what I’ll become if I let go.” 

“Oh?” Carr leaned in, his voice a low whisper. “And what’s that? A monster? A Weapon? Something worse?”

Her heart pounded in her ears, and for a moment, the weight of his words pressed down on her. The vines tightened around the dummy, cracking the wood as they constricted, and she felt the pull—an urge to push further, to let the vines spread, to tear the whole training field apart if she wanted. 

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She had to master this power, not let it master her. With a fierce breath, she released the vines, letting them fall limp at the base of the dummy. Her fingers twitched, but she forced herself to stay still, refusing to rise to Carr’s bait. 

“Again.” He said, sneering the words between gritted teeth. 

And she complied, sticking the target again and again, over and over until the fire simmering underneath her skin exploded. 

Her skin radiated heat, and it felt as if she was being struck by lightning. She was nearing burnout, her own body resembling more of a skeleton than a human as she struck again. 

“You need to stop,” Tairn bellowed, his voice strict and commanding. Genevieve’s breathing came in ragged gasps, each strike against the target sapping her strength. The air around her crackled with energy, the heat of her signet flaring wildly as she neared burnout, her control slipping. Her skin felt like it was burning from the inside out, the raw power coursing through her veins a searing reminder of just how dangerous she could become. Each command from Carr grove her further, pushing her to the brink of her limits. 

“Stop,” Tairn’s voice thundered in her mind, filled with urgency and concern. “You’re on the edge. You’re reaching burnout, you will die if you continue.” 

But Carr’s sneer only grew more pronounced as he watched her struggle. “You see, Genevieve? This is what true power looks like. You are destructive because of this power.” 

Genevieve’s vision blurred, her hands shaking uncontrollably as the vines grew. She collapsed to her knees. She could feel the power inside her building to an unbearable level, and it was all she could do to keep herself from breaking down completely. The dummy was barely recognizable now, its wooden frame splintered and covered in thick, dark vines. 

“No,” she managed to croak, her voice barely audible over the roar of her own power. “I need to stop.” 

The intensity of her power was reaching a critical mass, and she felt as if she was teetering on the edge of a precipice. If she went any further, she might not be able to pull back. The threat of losing control was real, and it made her shiver despite the heat radiating from her. 

“Genevieve, focus on me.” Tairn’s presence was a grounding force in the chaos, a beacon of calm amidst the storm. “Let go of the anger, and find the balance. You can do this.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out Carr’s taunts and the searing heat that was making her feel faint. She visualized the threads falling back, weaving themselves back into the earth. The flowers wither away, back into the pattern of the world. She willed herself to find the center of her own power, to channel it into control rather than destruction. 

With a supreme effort of will, she forced the vines to recede, letting them unravel from the dummy and and sink back into the earth. The heat slowly dissipates from her body, leaving her weak and trembling. Her knees sunk into the now plush grass beneath her. 

When she finally opened her eyes, Carr was staring at her with a mixture of disdain and grudging respect. “That was a start. We will do more next lesson.” His words were clipped and cruel. “You have potential, but potential means nothing if you can’t harness it. You’re a force of nature. Learn to control it, or it will control you.: 

Genevieve nodded, her breath coming in shaky gasps. “I understand.” 

Carr’s lips curled into a thin smile. “Good. Remember, power is a double-edged sword. Wield it wisely.”

As he walked away, Genevieve sank further into the ground, laying on her back as she let the grass grow around her, her strength finally giving out. Tairn’s comforting presence enveloped her, a soothing balm to the raw edges of her psyche. She took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to regain her composure. 

“You did well,” Tairn said softly, though there was an undercurrent of concern in his voice. “He will be here soon, to take you from this field.” 

Genevieve didn’t respond, she just closed her eyes and nodded, letting the late November sun warm her shocked body.

Xaden was coming to save her, again.  

Genevieve lay motionless on the soft grass, her body aching from the strain of her power, every muscle screaming in protest. The earth around her felt as if it was responding to her exhaustion with a gentle embrace, the vines and grass curling around her limbs protectively held her close. It was a small comfort, the only one she had as her mind raced with the lingering sting of Carr’s words. 

A force of nature. She wasn’t sure if she liked the sound of that. It implied something wild, uncontrollable. And she couldn’t afford to be either. 

Tairn’s presence was still there, steady and reassuring, but even he felt distant now, his concern threading through their bond but not overwhelming her. She needed space to breathe, to think, to push away the fear of what she would become. 

But despite everything, her body betrayed her with trembling hands and ragged breaths. Carr had pushed her too far, too fast, and she wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to keep her promise to herself. Control seemed so far out of reach when the anger surged so easily, when every moment was a battle to hold back the power bubbling beneath her skin. 

A soft crunch of boots on grass made her heart jump. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know who it was–Xaden’s presence was unmistakable, a dark cloud of tension that always followed him, but today there was something softer in the way he approached, the usual hard edge dulled by worry. 

“Gen,” his voice was low, a mixture of anger and concern as he knelt beside her. “What the hell did he do to you?” 

She opened her eyes slowly, her vision clouded with exhaustion, but even through the haze, she could see the barely restrained fury in his expression. His jaw was clenched, his dark eyes scanning her face as if he could will her back to strength through sheer force.

“Pushed me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “He wanted… control. He wanted me to break.” 

Xaden’s face darkened, his hands hovering beside her as if he didn’t know whether to pull her into his arms or to give her space to breathe “You’re not broken,” he said firmly, the intensity in his voice making her chest tighten. “He doesn’t get to win.” 

A weak smile tugged at her lips, though it faded quickly as the reality of her body’s limitations set in. “Feels like he did.” 

He waited for a moment, his eyes looking into hers, searching for some semblance of an answer for whether or not she was ok with him touching her. If she felt as if he would die if he got too close, he would back off, wait until she was strong enough to walk on her own and walk with her to her bedroom. But if not-

“It’s ok,” she muttered, her voice strained and tired. “I know I won’t kill you, not anymore. I see the threads now.” 

Without hesitation, Xaden gently slid his arms under her, lifting her from the ground with ease. The vines that had wrapped around her limbs loosened, as if sensing she was safe now, retreating back into the earth. His warmth enveloped her, and for the first time in hours, she allowed herself to lean into it, to let the weight of her exhaustion melt into him. Resting her head on his chest, she breathed in, and the scent of mint and leather condition filled her senses. She sighed contently, Xaden smelled like safety. 

“I’m going to talk to him,” Xaden muttered, his voice low and dangerous as he carried her away from the training field. 

“Not today,” she breathed, the effort of speaking draining her already depleted strength. “We need him… as much as I hate it.”

His arms tightened around her, a silent acknowledgement of the truth in her words, even if it killed him to admit it. She could feel the tension rolling off of him and into their bond, the barely contained rage he was holding back for her sake. But she wasn’t blind to this protectiveness that had bloomed between them, the way he was willing to save her even when she couldn’t save herself. 

“Rest,” he murmured, his voice softer now as they moved closer to the buildings of Basgiath and away from the fields, the chaos of the day fading into the background. “I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner. We’ll figure this out.” 

Genevieve nodded, and closed her eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her into a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in weeks. 

For now, she would rest. For now, she would let him carry her. 

—----------------------------------------------------------

 The rest of November passed in a blink of an eye, leaving in a blur of shadows and strain. Genevieve spent twice a week from mid-November to mid-December with professor Carr in special private sessions, aimed to help her get control with her power, but with each lesson, it felt as if she was getting weaker. Losing control. 

In the dimly lit sparring gym, Geneviev and Violet squared off, their staffs made contact with a series of sharp, resounding thwacks. With the force of the blow, Genevieve winced, her arms jolting. Her arms felt like glass, her bones weak.

“I think you’ve been doing too much giving,” Violet says, her breaths heavy and labored. “Maybe it’s time to take some life, too.”

“I’m not going to kill someone because I feel weak, Violet,” Genevieve bit, but the harshness in her words was masked by the concern Violet exuded. 

“You look like a skeleton, have you seen yourself?” Rhiannon points out. “Your eyes are completely sunken in and you’ve lost weight. You were skinny to begin with but it’s like your signet is eating away at you. You need something.”

Genevieve groans in annoyance, rolling her eyes. “I know, but last time Carr made me take life it felt as if I was draining the Earth from its pulse. And I can barely sleep after I do it. Not to mention I can’t even lock my door without freaking out so Liam sleeps outside my door and I feel so bad.”

“About that…” Liam trails off, looking away sheepishly. “I talked to Xaden the night you figured out I was doing that so he may or may not have warded your room so that only you can open it.” He stopped, and Genevieve blinked blankly. “It’s not like it’s locked! It just can’t be opened!”

Genevieve stared at Liam, incredulously. “That’s the same thing!”

“No it’s not like that,” he shook his head in protest, face flushed. “You can still get out anytime, just no one can get in.” 

“Genevieve, you need rest,” Rhiannon pushed gently, her brow furrowed with worry. “No one’s saying you’re weak, but you can’t keep this up.”

But it was a weakness. Genevieve hated the way her body betrayed her, the way it had begun to recoil every time she drew on her signet. It gnawed at her, sucking her dry. Carr’s lessons were supposed to help, but they were slowly consuming her, leaving her feeling hollow.

“I can handle it,” she snapped, more to herself than to them.

“We all understand that signet training is hard-” Genevieve cut Violet off. 

“No, you don’t understand!” She exclaimed, her anger finally blowing over. “Your signet hasn’t manifested! Hell, you haven’t even started channeling!”

Violet immediately backed off, a flash of hurt and jealousy hitting her face like a bolt of lightning. 

“Genevieve! Violet has her struggles just like you. We’re all trying our best, be nice.” Rhiannon chastised as if she was talking to a misbehaving child. 

“Yeah you all have your struggles but you can’t relate to mine, so stop pretending like you can!” The wooden staff in her hands broke in half, And the break was quickly swallowed by creeping vines and dark flowers. The room fell into a stunned silence as the floral growth consumed the broken staff, the dark blooms spreading out like a living nightmare. 

Her friends watched in shocked silence, their fear palpable. Violet’s gaze was fixed on the floor, Rhiannon’s brows furrowed in distress, and even Liam’s usual calm was marred by discomfort. 

Between the threads that were constantly now in her vision, she could feel the walls around her growing once more. They thickened with every ounce of fear that the people around her exuded. Genevieve watched as her own heart broke into pieces, and was cemented into the wall around her. The wall that was once broken down and destroyed, allowing Rhiannon, Violet, Sawyer, Ridoc, and now Liam in, was firmly built up strongly once more. Blocking them out. 

Genevieve’s heart ached as the silence stretched. “You’re all afraid of me,” she said quietly, the hurt clear in her voice. “You’re afraid of what I might do, of what I could become.”

The silence that followed Genevieve’s words was thick, suffocating. Her friends shifted uneasily, but no one rushed to deny it. The air was heavy with the scent of the dark flowers that had sprouted from her shattered staff, the vines now curling menacingly around the gym floor. She could feel it—their unease, their uncertainty. It pressed against her, invisible but undeniable, just as tangible as the walls she’d erected to keep them at a distance. 

“Everytime I look at you guys, I can see these threads connecting you to the Earth. And now I know how to keep myself from snapping those threads with what little control I have of my signet, but even despite this control that I’ve managed to grasp from nothing, you all look at me as if one wrong move and I’ll snip your thread short.” She explained, her voice shaking as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “I can feel it in the way you talk to me, the way you look at me as if I’m about to explode and take you all down with me.” 

Rhiannon’s lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Her usual sharpness was softened by uncertainty. Violet opened her mouth, but closed it again, glancing at Liam, who stood tense beside her, his hands almost protectively clasped around her arm. No one rushed to reassure her, and that silence cut deeper than any words could have. 

“We’re not afraid of you,” Liam finally said, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. “We’re worried about you.” 

“That’s not true,” Geneveive’s eyes narrowed, her grip on the broken staff tightening. The flowers wrapped around it pulsed as if in tune with her anger. “You’re all terrified. I see it. And don’t you dare try to lie to me about it. I can practically feel your fear.” 

Rhiannon, ever the leader, took a cautious step forward, her hand extended “Genevieve, we’re not—”

“You’re lying and you know it!” Genevieve cut her off, stepping back, the vines curling tighter around her feet. “You say you’re worried, but I can feel the space between us growing every day. Don’t you think I notice how you all treat me now? Like I’m some problem waiting to be solved?” 

Rhiannon flinched, but held her ground. “We’re not lying. We don’t know how to help you. That’s all it is. But we care. We’re not afraid of you, we’re afraid of losing you.” 

Genevieve’s heart twisted at those words. She wanted to believe them, to cling to the hope that her friends hadn’t abandoned her, but the truth that she believed so deeply in her heart felt like a heavy stone lodged in her chest. She had lost them, in some way. That bond, that trust—they were fraying, and she didn’t know how to stop it. 

The threads that connected her to them, the ones she saw every time she used her signet, were so fragile. She feared that with one wrong move, she’d snap them, and they’d be gone for good. 

“You will lose me,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “At this rate, I’m losing myself.” 

Liam’s face fell, and for the first time, he looked truly helpless. “We don’t want that to happen. We’re trying to be here for you, but…” 

“But what?” Genevieve pressed, her voice sharp again. “You don’t understand what it feels like. You don’t know what it’s like to have your own power drain the life from you. I can feel myself dying everyday. And when I take life, I can feel myself being filled with power again, being filled with life.” 

The admission hung in the air like a death sentence. Genevieve’s words, raw and unfiltered, spoke the truth of her power. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up,” she whispered, her voice cracked, full of fear and exhaustion. 

Her friends exchanged glances, tension thick between them. They couldn’t fully understand, but the weight of her words was clear. 

“Then let us help,” Violet said softly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to fight this alone, Genevieve.” 

Genevieve backed away, shaking her head. “You can’t help. I’m dangerous. One touch from me, and—”

Without hesitation, Liam closed the gap, grabbing her hand. His fingers wrapped firmly around hers, despite the faint pulse of energy beneath her skin. “We’re not afraid of you,” he said quietly, his grip steady. 

Rhiannon stepped forward, grabbing her other hand tightly. “When I say this you better believe me,” She paused, looking into Genevieve's eyes and searching for her confirmation. “We aren’t scared of you, Genevieve.“

Violet, not far behind, rested her hand on Genevieve’s arm. “You don’t have another hand, so I can’t hold it, but we trust you.” 

Genevieve’s breath caught. Her power hummed beneath the surface, but they didn’t pull away. The walls around her heart cracked, just a little. Maybe she wasn’t alone after all. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered. 

“You won’t,” Liam said, squeezing her hand. “We’ll figure this out. Together.” 

-------------------------------------------------

Hey guys!! How are you all? I just got an interview with my dream uni, so I'm doing pretty good (OMG I AM FREAKING OUT)!

On another note, I have reposted chapter 1, completely re-written with new information and just a lot better, because I definitely have grown as a writer since the start of the book. I'll be updating on the normal schedule, but also slowly posting the revised chapters as well.

As I re-write, please go back and read them (if you want to, of course), as I will be changing and adding things, so stuff will make more sense. Besides that, chapter 13 will be up either on sunday or saturday, so keep your eyes pealed for that (there will be smut)!

Let me know what you guys think! I'll see you all soon~

[cherryblossomwriting]

The debt

Summary: “Y/N’s brother owes Harry money. However, he is unable to pay the debt. So Harry decides to strike a deal that involves Y/N”

Tags: Dom!Mafia/Gang Harry x Innocent/Virgin Y/N

Note: Everything mentioned in this writing is consensual. Harry and Y/N both are 18+

Also, this writing has not been proofread so please ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes! 

W.C: 1442 

Y/N was in her pyjama set when she heard the doorbell ring. She wasn't really expecting anyone at 2pm on a sunday afternoon. She had just turned 18 last month and decided to move into her brother's flat. The best part was that the rent wasn't really high, she got her own, private room and also soon realised that her brother was rarely ever at home (god knows what kind of activities he is involved in). She had just completed her long college assignment and was planning on napping for a while. She made her way to the door to see who it was. She opened the door slightly, just enough to poke her head out to see who it was. The tall man with a chiselled face, toned body and long, brown locks reaching his shoulders, she gasped when he harshly pushed the door completely open. 

“Hi, umm are you looking for someone?” Y/N squealed. “Ahh, didn't know he had just an innocent little pretty sister” the man murmured. “Where's your brother?” he asked in his deep voice. “How can his voice be so deep and rough and still be as smooth as honey?” She thought to herself. “Umm.. I am not sure he hasnt come home in two days” she replied. “Oh, is it? I want you to call him right fucking now and tell him to come home” he cocked slyly. She casually bent down to pick up her phone that was lying on the sofa, without realising how her short shorts hiked up to reveal the bottom of her ass. He could feel his cock stir in his pants. There was something about her innocence that turned him on. She called her brother's number and asked him to come home. “He is coming home in 10 mins,” she answered shyly, unintentionally biting her lip (she did that when she was nervous). That lip bite made him go furreal, he wanted to bite that lip. Push her down and take her right on that sofa. Ruin her. Destroy her. Fuck her. 

After 10 mins, y/b/n entered the house, not expecting to see Harry there. “H-hey, Harry. How are you? W-what are y-you doing here?” he asked with a blank expression. His face looked like he just saw a ghost. “Harry… what a sexy name” Y/N she thought to herself. “You motherfucker, cut the bullshit, you know exactly why I am here. To collect my money. It has been 6 months for fucks sake. I want my bloody money right fucking now or I will hesitate to show you who is in power here.” he roared with dominance. He slightly lifted his suit to show the gun that rested on his hip. 

“H-harry you know how things have been for me, I don't have a penny to give you right now. I-I promise, I will pay you by the end of this month. Please,believe me.” “Over my dead fucking body will I give you more time. You've been saying the same thing to me for the past 4 months. Do you think I am stupid? Have you forgotten who I am? Do i need to remind you about who youre fucking talking to? I am the fucking drug kingpin of London, it wont take me a minute to kill you and throw your body in a place where no one will ever find it.” he smirked knowing the effect his loud and dominating voice has on people. 

Y/N was terrified to say the least. “Why does her brother owe money to the fucking drug mafia leader? Will he actually kill my brother? No, I have to save him!” she thought to herself. She mustered up her strength and said, “N-no, please don't kill him. P-please.” 

“Oh baby girl, I'm afraid I might have to if he doesn't pay up.” the mafia leader uttered. 

“Y/N, go to your room. I can handle this myself, I don't want you to get involved,” y/b/n said. 

“You know what I have a deal for you. I will forgive the loan. On one condition. You have to let me fuck your sweet little, innocent sister” harry said. “W-what. N-no. that's my sister dude” y/b/n said. “Im not your fucking dude. You have two options and they are in front of you.” Harry said while roughly squeezing y/b/n cheeks and jaws. 

Y/N couldn't believe her ears and eyes at the moment. “He wanted to fuck me? I am a virgin. Do I really want to lose my virginity to this man? I mean no doubt he is fucking hotter than the devil but he was in the mafia for fucks sake.” These thoughts were spiralling in her brain. 

“O-ok, I-I am ready. If that's what it takes to save my brother's life. I am ready” Y/N retorted. 

“Y/N you don't have to do this. There are other ways” y/b/n said. “I don't think you have much of a choice right now anyways. I will be taking her to my mansion and she will be safely dropped back home once I'm done with her,” he smirked, winking at me. “I will go change and then we can leave” Y/N said as she walked her way to her room.

Y/N changed into my favourite white, bow dress pairing it up with stockings and boots. If im doing this might as well do it properly. Y/N looked in the mirror one last time before leaving my room and going towards Harry. “Ooh you've already got me so hard baby. You have no idea what you're in for. I hope you don't like this dress and stockings because they are going to be torn apart” he whispered in her ear. He held her arm and they left the flat.  

They drove up to his humongous mansion. He took her to his bedroom. He swung the door open and pushed her on his bed. “I will make sure to pleasure you so much that there will be fat tears streaming down your eyes,” he said. He pushed Y/N on his bed and took both her legs in his left hand and with his right hand he tore open the flimsy stockings. “Spread your legs fo’ me” he commanded. As she spread her legs, he started licking long strips up her slit. “Fuck, you taste like heaven,” he moaned and kept fucking her with his tongue while his fingers rub on her clit. “On your knees and hands, NOW!” he demanded. Y/N quickly was on all fours. “I will make sure this pussy remembers who fucked it so good. It was made fo’ me” He poked his tip on her entrance and slowly entered her weeping hole, inch by inch. “Please, do something it hurts” Y/N cried out. “Oh, yeah, then you're gonna live what I'm about to do next.”  He pulled out completely. “Why did you pull-ohh,” Y/N moaned and he thrusted his 9-inch cock all at once. He started relentlessly pistoning his cock right in her virgin hole. He kept fucking her doggy-style. 

He held you by your stomach and turned you on your back. His cock re-entered her pussy. “I love seeing your face when I enter you. You’re perfect. It's like you were made for me” he said as he kept thrusting in you. “Bloody hell, you have the perfect, perky tits” he said as he took your left nipple in his mouth and kept sucking on it like his life depended on it. He took your other nipple in his fingers and kept pinching and fondling them. “Im gonna cum, oh god” she said as his movements became faster, wanting her to cum first. He saw her eyes roll at the back of her head as her fingers grasp the expensive, velvet sheets and a moan erupts from the depth of her throat  as she feels the euphoric high. After she rides her high, Harry cums deep inside her, coating her insides white with his milky cum. He has never cum this much. He slowly pulls out and falls on top of her, his head hidden in the crook of her neck. 

His thick cum oozing out of her glistening pussy. He feels himself harden again at the site of his cum flowing out her pussy. 

“Are we done?” Y/N asks shyly. “Oh baby, this is just the start of the night, you have no idea of what you're in for” he says as he slowly enters her pussy once again. 

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Note: Please let me know your thoughts and views about this piece in the comments below. All support is appreciated.

Lots of love

xoxo

[namazunomegami]

A healthy dose of stalker Geto thoughts

a/n: FYI, thats the result if you lock me up in an empty room with my laptop and a playlist full of mareux, NIN and MSI. At least I got a newfound love for Closer now bc some years ago a fic ruined the song for me lmao

Before you ask, yes, I have mental problems. But likes and reblogs are still appreciated <33

wc: 1919

cw: geto is fucking delulu, online stalking, serial murder, poisoning, dismemberment, geto cooks his blood into a meal, implied bondage, kidnapping, reader was abused, corruption, reader is forced to torture and kill their abuser, gore

credits: nakatsuji sakutaro for one of my fave geto fanarts ever <33, my dearest @notveryrussian for proofreading, my criminal pedagogy teacher for some interesting details about organized criminals lol and arone_cosplay on tiktok bc his scream au cosplay was the sole inspiration when I started writing

The dark content is heavy with this one so there's nothing wrong if you won't interact with this post! If my horror enthusiast bestie says that this shit is scary, believe them. Minors are gonna get kicked, obviously.

He’s definitely not that “Joe Goldberg from You” type of stalker. He despises the guy, he watches that show to have a laugh. It’s his form of disaster tourism. Geto is almost the antithesis of Joe. I was a big fan of the first season of You so let me elaborate. Joe has a savior complex and he latches onto any conventionally attractive rich woman in his proximity and tries to mold them into his ideal type (which is vulnerable, dependent, innocent, and forgiving) and when shit hits the fan he becomes a whiney little bitch saying stuff like “aww, but I did this all for you :cc” because he’s in complete denial about his crimes and psychopathic nature. Geto is the opposite, and what makes him so fucking scary is that he doesn’t need to convince himself that his actions are right. He knows he’s right.

Also, he won’t put on a fucking cap and go out on the streets to stalk you. That’s just a dumb decision, he has a job to do, and it’s easy to recognize him. But that doesn’t mean that he won’t do it in his spare time, from a comfortable distance. He only needs one of your socials and digs up every little detail about you. Your entire lore. Pictures shared by your relatives when you were just a little kid, he tracks your friends’ accounts (he wants to make sure that you’re surrounded by the right people), all the locations, cafés, restaurants you share on your instagram highlights, your celebrity crushes, all the playlists you made on spotify, everything. He gets to know you before you’re even aware of his existence, you’re an open book to him before he talks to you. It’s so easy to get a feel of your essence in the online space, use the tremendous information to his advantage, surprise you, win you over with his fake thoughtfulness.

"Aw, you’re so sweet, how did you know?"

"Lucky guess."

Yeah, a lucky guess, he just scrolled your twitter until 4 am to reach your first ever post.

The easiest way to understand how his mind works is to look at his MBTI type and I’ll try to hold myself back to not flood you all with my everlasting love for Jungian psychology and cognitive functions. INTJs are meticulous, skeptical, analytical, practical, everything is centered around a bigger, more complex system, a spiderweb of thoughts. Their subjective ideals and values have the utmost importance. They get lost in the details sometimes, but they manage to prioritize creativity and rationality in their actions and thought process. So, if we want to pick a category among murderers, he’d definitely belong into a mission oriented type (canon is my only proof for this). He couldn’t care less about money, power, or satisfying his needs for control. He’s the personification of punishment in his mind.

Evil is petty, he is petty, but not so much to just deal with every single nuisance in the shape of a person (looking at Joe again lol). He won’t go after the Karens at your workplace or the shitty classmates who just wanted their name on your assignment without any contribution. If he kills, he must kill for a valid reason and does it brilliantly. Calm and level-headed, organized, devoid of anger or any intense emotion. He makes awful lot of preparations for a kill. He studies the victim just like he studies with you. Their schedule, relationships, habits, social media presence. He’d rather arrange the scene to give the impression of an accident. Mixing cleaning products, fucking around with the heating system and letting them die of carbon monoxide poisoning or a house fire (an easy kill if the victim smokes). He rarely lets himself get carried away and get all bloody and gorey because he knows how much effort he must put into disposing of the body. But he does feel like a god during the process. That he rules over life and death. That he has the divine right to decide who should be removed from existence.

The only slightly risky thing he allows himself, is to put his earphones in and call you up while dismembering a corpse. Good thing that his grandma has no use for that big ass meat grinder, a literal jackpot for getting rid of the bodies. His voice is soothing, so sweet you can turn into a blushing and giggling mess, but you can still hear the loud chopping noises as he severs the body parts right at the joints. He shrugs it off that he’s just meal prepping.

You believe him, you don’t question him further. But he does cook a delicious meal just for you and sends it to your workplace. And you have absolutely no idea that he was thinking about cutting up the ingredients with the same knife he killed his victim with. Luckily, he changed his mind. You don’t deserve to have any remnants of a lowlife in your system. But the idea was nice, just like how modern witches tie their favorite person to them. There’s something ritualistic about blood consumption in his mind that he can’t explain. Hopefully, a few drops of his own didn’t ruin the meal. At least you weren’t complaining about the metallic taste. He doesn’t mind he has to live off on two cans of Monster because he pulled an all-nighter. You’re falling head over heels for him so it’s worth the suffering.

The only thing that makes his heart ache is that as your relationship develops, he must use you to forge his alibis. He immediately copied the keys to your apartment, without your knowledge of course. Sometimes he drops by when you’re absent, goes through your stuff, sniffs around, looking for trinkets. He comes over specifically when he plans to kill his next victim. Sneaks out in the middle of the night, kills them, then goes back to your place and crawls back next to you. And he’s as silent as a cat, as a phantom, as a ghost.

He’s a fucked up man in every aspect. You think he’s too hyper fixated on restraints and bondage. He’s far too keen to spend an excruciatingly long time arranging the rope in an aesthetically pleasing way, or have the gag’s and blindfold’s colors match perfectly. His creativity and imagination are running wild when you’re the rigger. You almost question his sanity when he asks you to use cable ties and masking tape on him. What does he want? To feel tortured? Deep down he’s fascinated with the feelings a potential victim might experience. A taste of distress, vulnerability, helplessness that he usually has no chance to feel, yet he’s thrilled about it. You still won’t suspect a thing, everybody’s got a weird kink or two that they can’t explain, right?

He knows that one day, you’ll discover his secret. That he can’t hide it forever and even though he justifies his vile actions by giving it a noble cause, he must earn your forgiveness. He deliberately kept those who hurt you mostly alive. Whether it’s a bully, the shittiest ex known to mankind, or an abusive parent. He knows he has no right to kill them. But he can bring them to your basement, gagged and tied up. The best birthday gift ever is to let you have your revenge, right? Or maybe he just wants somebody as irredeemable as him, like he’s undeserving of anything nice in life so he must break it, tarnish it, ruin it. The world is a such a cruel place for kind spirits, he feels the need to corrupt them. Bring them down to his level.

He lined up a bunch of tools, a wooden bat, scissors, knives, razor blades, a hatchet, a hammer. He transformed the basement into a makeshift rage room. You don’t dare to cry, run, or scream at him, the person before your eyes makes you freeze completely, your features are distorted in dread. An old response got triggered, your nervous system remembers those years, you’re flooded with memories. You feel yourself regressing back to the victim you once were and that’s the process that Geto wants to stop once and for all. It’s so strange that you find safety in his presence and his firm hold above your elbows. He’s looming over you like a shadow, a shroud. Like the devil on your shoulder. Cooing in your ear to pick up something and have fun, let your rage cloud your mind, make them relive your pain. Don’t worry about a single thing because he will do all the clean-up. And you have no idea why, but you accept.

It’s strangely comforting. You feel in control, all-powerful, accomplished. It feels better than it should. It feels so right but it shouldn’t. There’s no guilt in you, only endorphins running rampant in your veins. The dopamine rush enslaves you, fills your brain with white noise. The pain does fade a little or something just irrevocably breaks in you. Maybe you’re just as fucked up as him and you managed to bury it in the deepest corner of your psyche. All bottled up for years like the most exquisite French wine, chained just like a beast but now it’s freed. Your reward is a bloody pile of flesh and guts that once was a person, and utter devotion gleaming in Geto’s eyes.

Your consciousness gets clearer, you notice the sensation of being drenched in blood and sweat when the realization hits you that there’s no going back. Now, you’re sticked together for life. You know his dirty little secret and now you’ve forged your own that he can blackmail you with if you ever want to get away from him. But why would you do that? You’re everything he needs and he’s all you have.

[siremasterlawrence]

Superman: The Evolution of A Pussy

The fortress of solitude the impenetrable force of nature in the middle of the freezing cold ocean, Superman uses his x-ray vision to peer through the roof to see a strange old shadowy figure looming down over him and to see him. Clark Kent flew out of the vicinity in to the air as he is lifting higher in to the atmosphere as he reaches the man staring him down with such malice and Clark is astonished to see how this man’s nerve is breaking him in all kinds of ways he is grows unnerving more and more.The man smirks raising his hands in the air he summons of gust of whirls under him as it blows like a tornado it is surrounding the fortress and begins to shoot upward in to the sky launching it like rocket it aims up towards it hitting him head on as it sped in to space.

The man flew after him in to space as the tiny crater broke in to a million pieces as if hits Clark one at a time, the man watches his own destruction as each one glow with a heavy green tint landing on top of him he falls back to earth in a glorious display of power. Clark is unconscious as the man floating before him with a little effort of swinging his hand he shoves him to the side surrounding him by a green bubble covering him as they travel beyond the area and they head in to a new arena where I have began to plan it all. The man and the emerald bubble free falls to the deep, dank, and dark underground that I have built to harbor myself as well as others I have taken in to my aids to help me to take over the city and the world at my whim and I am madly in love with them all as my humble slave.

His lips are so tender as I place him on to the medical slab laid to rest in a massive blue lit bubble covering over the body encasing it as it lifts him upward in to the air and it is holding him in place as if spun him about preparing him for my minds control and I begin the process snappingup all of it.I walk to the edge of the room flipping on the light switch as the light shines on him, it is also shining on me as I step on to the machine entering the floor panel pad as the glass covers him and the glass shuts me in as it is locking me in to the space as it stirs on the air circles in swirling through the room. The air descending down upon us causing a rush as the energy burst in to my body with a electrical output that is sending my nerves to spiral crazily through my spine before shooting through the pad it lifts and dives right in to Superman’s body sending him unconscious.

“it is a Knight’s Tale programming.” I state as it commence.

“Reprogramming commences “

“Clark Kent! Can you hear me?”

“Yyyyeeeessss!”

“Do you know who I am?”

“That criminal that came to to…”

“What? Came to what?”

“I don’t remember…”

“Would you like my help?”

“I have no other choice “

“Yes or no”

“Begrudgingly yes!”

“You little shit”

“Please”

“That’s better “

“Your name is Clark Kent”

“Yes! Absolutely correct “

“You have been living a lie”

“No! I have not “

“Oh really? Last son of Krypton”

“Don’t call me that”

“Why not?”

“STOP PLEASE!”

“Feel my hand on the sides of your head and embrace it.”

“Feel my energy soul through you “

“Soul to soul exchange “

“You love me”

“I love you “

“Lois, Kara, your parents, your kids, and your clones.”

“You never loved them “

“I hate them”

“Increase the hate and accept it”

“I will kiss you, you will love it and succumb “

“Mmmm! Yes! Taste so good”

“I am your Master, Lord, God and everything else in your life.”

“Yes Daddy”

“Did you refer to me as”

“Yes daddy”

“Why?l

“Because I love you “

“I know only you “

“When I snap my finger you will wake up and kneel in submission “

“Yes Daddy”

The end

Captain America: A Centennial Criminal

Clark Kent Aka The Man Of Steel Superman The Last Son Of Krypton rose from the life less ash of his old life spread across the ground and swoops in the air as he rose to his full height in power and stood tall above me. He looks down in deference of his power compared to me his absolute ruler of his world, he peers down at me in other bliss with a smile washing on to me In excitement as he swoops up in his arms with a bright smile. Under my instructions for him he sprints up smashing through theceiling glass as it scatters to the ground as if it is raining and he speeds across to a very random research facility and begin to spin like a drill to the basement. Borrowing downward in spiral as the floors broke beneath him landing in a perfect spin

on the basement floor as the alarm system blares out, the red let radiating all over the hall covering the place in a dark red as a warning and Clark laughs seeing the signs up for hazardous area. He grabs it yanking it off of the wall as he crumbles it then threw it to the ground in a rage using his heat ray vision to burn it, the guard race down the hallway way to face him as he blast them with his heat ray and outstretches his arm forming a hole in them. Clark laughs like a lunatic sending them flying in to the wall of it as he blew past the wall he he shifts push his feet on to the wall as he shoves himself forward and launches in to the laboratory a deck below coming to a holt as he smashes through the glass.

He throws the glass window aside of him to reach out for the shirt as he grabs a frozen Steve Rogers like a popsicle stick inside of his pod and he flew in to the air one again smashes the ceiling flying back to my base with such accomplishment as he heads on home. He soars back him free falling to the ground causes a earthquake in his quake as he kneels down, placing Captain America In the pod as well flip another switch as he shuts down the area and he watches in to great delight and the machine gets to work for him. “He was unconscious when I arrive Master Lawrence!” Superman replies taking my hand in his as he leans down taking my hand even tighter as he kisses my hand up to my shoulders with so much love and lust in his eyes.

“The machine is all prepped Master”

“Commence boi”

“Watch his eyes go blue and roll back “

“His body begins to sink”

“Falling to the floor “

“In pain he aches “

“Mmmm! He is pleased”

“Sexual release?”

“Precisely “

“Oooooohhhhh”

“Do you hear me?”

“Ffffuuuucccckkkkkk”

“He is amusing Master”

“No Duh!”

“You are so thrilling “

“How so boi?”

“You forced me to succumb”

“Submit in to submission “

“Kneel at my feet “

“I love you Master”

“Can you hear me Steve?”

“Yes! I can hear you “

“I love you Steve “

“You love me too”

“Stop screwing up your face”

“You love me to…I know you “

“Yes! I love you too”

“I am your Master”

“You are my…no you lie”

“How can I?”

“I am your God!”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“I am touching your head and channeling you.”

“Accept my will”

“Yes! I accept “

“On to you feet”

“Sir Yes Daddy Sir”

The end

The end

[asmolguy]

Gonna make a list of characters that are so painfully little coded everything in my brain just goes “baby” whenever I watch them. Plus one caregiver. (And one real dude which feels kinda rude since he’s just like. A guy. Living his life. So you can ignore that one. But I wanted to point it out.)

Lloyd from Lego ninjago. Dude. Canon family trauma + canon forced to end his childhood early. Prime agere material. There are so many good fics of little Lloyd just littling. He’s tiny boi. So baby. So perfect.

Cole from Lego ninjago. He is. So caregiver built. I think it hurts to watch sometimes. So gentle so sweet. Get this man a child or a little or something to care for I swear. He just needs to parent. It’s in his blood and carved into his bones.

Branch from trolls. Ya’ll did you watch movie 3? The family trauma times two. The way he uses a pacifier to lock in. Someone was straight up weaving that into the fabric of his being as a character. He’s not little coded he’s little written. Plus in the show he has a little stuffie named Croco and I love that for him. There’s also some good agere Branch fics, but not enough. I need more. Pwease. He is so smol and so grumpy just everyone write him as the baby boi he deserves to be I beg.

Spider-Man but specifically for ultimate Spider-Man (btw if anyone’s looking for good regression shows and you fall around like 5-10 it’s a very good show because it’s long and has a good mix of humor and that show is my jam dude when I’m big and little). But anyone. Ultimate Spider-Mans Spider-Man is so stressed all of the time. He is just a teen. And he’s handling so many unruly teens. And in the later seasons when he’s handling the entirety of shield while being worried about nova. Give the boy a break and let someone take care of him. He’s both little and caregiver coded btw. I adore the fics where everyone calls him daddy longlegs because that is straight up what the last season is. Just him being a father to all these troubled ass powered teenagers while being so troubled himself. But then he’s also so little. He pouts and needs so much love and he’s scared all of the time and he is traumatized and then that one ep where that got turned into those weird chibi things the show tried to convince us were children I want to believe awakened something in him and he is now little sometimes.

Ian Hecox. Listen. I am aware that he is just a dude. Like a real guy. Who cannot be coded because he just exists. But I see. So much of myself in him. It kind of makes a part of my heart hurt that no one like every really seriously criticizes his more childish behavior (even for the bit on a YouTube video) because it makes me feel better about the small ways I slip in public or with my friends sometimes. There’s literally “everyone babying Ian hecox” comps online. His habit of saying scawed or newvous is unironically a blessing and curse since now all my friends who also watch Smosh do it so it’s not weird if I do it but then sometimes I have to pause and be like “is this for the bit or am I slipping right now. Both? Neither?” That one tntl (#91) where they did the blind pairs (btw one of the funniest ones ever in my opinion absolute hall of famer, the fish one, burning the pool, m’lei, all incredible bits. It’s like. The video I show people to try to get them into Smosh.) and Ian puts on overalls and walks out with an Elmo and is like “I’m five” and then after the bit is over he stays in character and when he’s like “elmo…” and damien is like “yeah bud I made sure to miss him with the spit” and then Ian drags the toy through he spit and everyone in the room is just like “aww man” like everyone is truly just like Ian dude you got your stuffed animal wet. Also Anthony being able to fully pick Ian up and carry him multiple ways. If you watch the behind the scenes for the my best friend is dead video Anthony 1. Is pumped to pick Ian up. 2. Does a baby cradle with Ian more than successfully. 3. Says “I got you bud” when Ian gets nervous and Ian goes “ok” in this tiny little voice and instantly relaxes. 4. When Anthony puts Ian down Ian follows him making grabby hands and says “I want uppies”. More little Ian caregiver Anthony fics when. Except not really because again don’t really want to put any of this on real people just doing comedic bits that I happen to feel in my soul a bit too much.

And finally, Max thunderman. I mean. Just watch the show. The pouts. The frequent fake sobbing and sniffling. The fact that he needs a childhood back after Phoebe was put on a pedestal. Someone give me soft thundertwins fic where max is a little and Phoebe is a cargegiver please I need it. And I am. So bad at writing. I would love you forever and ever if you did.