#i love these guys im so sane about them

[cryptidram]

despair :[

wake up babe new dashford edit just dropped

[mrghostrat]

I FINISHED THIS FUCKIN COMMISSION! 2 WEEKS!! FIFTEEN WHOLE GUYS!!!!!

i have now officially drawn ONE HUNDRED owls for this man.

[yourplaceinaugust]

making non tumblr user friends was a mistake bc i was ranting about symbrock to my friend and ended it by saying "the third movie needs to be rated r so they can fuck" and my friends only response was "what the fuck"

[im-smart-i-swear]

unable to let go

something something both of these fuckers have spent so long depending on each other that they cant function w/o the other guy despite Tashi's continously worsening mental state and unhealthy clinginess and Soup's desire to explore the world and meet new people...

like the thing about soup is that she had never really been a person who does well stuck in one place for too long, but also tashi is her brother. theyve been through hell and back together and she feels immense guilt for even considering having a life outside of their little family, and also she has NOT worked through her gladiator trauma AT ALL and has been just holding everything in and trying to be a perfect caring figure despite all the anger and frustration she experiences on a daily basis...

(tashi is dealing with that too, but hes never been as good as her at hiding it, and also he has the tendency to make this stuff everyones problem - thus sidelining soups problems by accident. i think soup is kind of what tashi desperately WANTS to be, in a way. on the outside shes the 'stoic selfless caregiver' and i think tashi is jealous of that, so much so that he sometimes forgets that soup is just as much a person with her own problems and desires and flaws as everyone else)

soup is frustrated by how shes been having to take more and more responsibilities as time goes on (bc of tashis Whole Thing and buddys fear of assuming any kind of leadership position) and a part of her loathes this life and she wants to leave. i think her and zoras relationship plays a big role in her feeling on the matter bc shes NOT part of the family, shes someone new and diffrent and thats enticing... also over the years soup had built up this calm easygoing persona that zora can see through, zora is very aware of soups violent past and she is not sfraid of it, giving soup a safe space to express those more negative feelings freely for the first time in YEARS

Its very hand in unlovable hand coded but they very much love each other still and thats kinda the problem

Also putting some notes on their younger selves here bc this feels relevant to how these two ended up

[loveinlilies]

This unlocked my inner Madakana analysis brain because they're the character opposites. Foils even. They're the same deep down in always wanting, only being together via that wanting and always effecting the other. (The 3rd part and relationship are so meteor impact)

[flutteringfable]

so happy i have new and better headphones to drown out my transphobic family

[ffrogie]

i dont think anything could have predicted that in our lord and saviour year of 2023- MY PHONE BACKGROUND WOULD HAVE DEVOLVED INTO DAN AND PHIL 😭

[monster-mash-m]

Anomalous love

𐌌ዐ𐌍ነ𐌕ቹ𐌐?Boyfriend x Human!Reader

Mdni!

Cw: creampie, lying, slight size difference, non gendered, no specific genitalia, rough sex, loving relationship, creepy imagery, weird monster dick

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

You have been seeing this guy for a while now. He’s just… perfect. He’s kind, caring, generous, funny…. He’s just, your whole world. You’ve been dating Zen for about almost a year now and you could never ask for more.

Maybe you didn’t have a choice for more…

It was a cozy September evening, just as summer was turning into autumn. You were in your boyfriend’s house waiting for him to come home, you were going to surprise him with his favorite food since you were such a kind partner!

And of course you were hiding to really surprise him. And just like that you heard the door unclick. You got into your position as you heard Zens shoes click against the wooden floor. Then… they just stopped. You thought he may have spotted you, but you couldn’t be more wrong. Because not long after… the walking resumed but it sounded…. Sticky… that… that wasn’t right. You quickly peak out of the corner to see what he was doing. Only to be met with… “Zen…?” You gasp out in shock

What stood before you was not human. His skin began to grow grayer, his sanely blonde curls became almost as pitch black as his fingers that had spindly veins emerging from them, also charcoal black. His teeth sharpened to razor like points along with his nails. His soft brown eyes were more a piercing gold. Sticky wet tentacles sprout from his back like live snakes.

Of course you began to tremble when his head snapped around at who said his name. His expression a mixture of worry and softness as soon as he realizes who it was. “Babe-“ his voice echoed in an uncanny way. “Please wait- s- no stop panicking-“ he immediately began to try and calm you down.

You stood frozen in fear. Your only movement was of your chest taking in gusts of air to try and compose yourself.

He changed back into his human form “shit- babe… I didn’t know you were here-“ he said remorsefully as he hesitantly walked over. “Please just- stop panicking.”

Somehow you did. You just look up at him more at ease with him in his human form “what… what was that? What were you?” He frowned “I-“ he stopped himself and took a deep breath.

“The truth has to come out eventually….” He looked away in shame. “I’m a…. Well I’m an anomaly…. A monster…. Or something humans would portray as a changeling or crypid…” he tried to explain “b-but im not a monster baby! That’s what you need to understand!” You just look at him trying to take in the information… you’ve been dating this… thing for so long… you should be more scared… more trying to run away and scream for help. But… you weren’t. That was odd, you thought.

“I’ve never hurt anyone or anything baby! I just- I live amongst humans- I…. I know I should’ve told you the truth.. but I fell inlove with you as soon as I saw you… I-i couldn’t risk you… despising me- or being scared of me… the real me…” he looked at you with such guilt.

You almost felt bad for your initial reaction. “Zen… I… I don’t know how to process this… I… you- I don’t-“ he just nods slowly “I understand babe…” he takes your hand cautiously “you… you’re gonna take a while to process this… but we… we can work past this… right?”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

And oh yes, you both managed to work past his… quirks. So much so that when he’s home he’s never in his human form around you anymore. And that’s also developed into the bedroom as well.

Zen chuckled softly as he bound your wrists with one of his slippery tentacles “babyyyy~.” He hummed in amusement “You’re squirming all pretty for me yeah?” His echoey voice lingered in your head making you dizzy. You just nod softly looking up at him squeezing your thighs together.

Two more tentacles take ahold of both your legs, spreading them rather eagerly “Been wanting to stretch you on my monster cock for so long baby…” he growled lowly. Excitement drenching his tone. “To feel your human body react to my every beck and call…” he hissed out as he Regan to run his inhuman cock against your entrance.

It had a blunt tip whirl the shaft was gray going into charcoal black at the head. His length was also extremely textured with bumps and ridges. And not so surprisingly just as slick as his tentacles. “I’m gonna push it in now baby… just breathe… I got you…” he shuddered out as his heavy cock pushed into you.

You gasp out and squirm even more in his grasp as he slowly bullied his cock into your tight hole. “Fuuuuck baby oh god- shit, so tight for me like this-“ he grunted out trying to restrain himself. You on the other hand we’re fighting for your life. His non human cock… well it was huge. “F-fuck! Wait- it’s too big too big/“ you pant out mindlessly which was interrupted by your own loud gasp. He was all in. You felt it. You felt his cold hips pressed flush against your plump ass.

His hands dig into the fat of your hips for leverage “God- “ he seethed out clenching his eyes shut “feel like I’m gonna cum already…” he laughed with a strained tone. His spare tentacles began to tease and wrap around your soft body. You let out a tense laugh as well as you adjust to his sheer girth.

After a while of growing accustomed to his twitching cock inside out you, you smile bashfully “you can move now Zen…” you practically whisper out, but that’s all that he needed to start rutting into you like a feral animal. His cock hitting allll the right spots in you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you arch your back, Zens’ thrusts getting more jagged and his breaths laboured “god- fuck I’m gonna cum baby I’m gonna cum!” He almost whimpers out as his cock continuously plunged in and out of you.

Soon you feel your own climax building as one of his tentacles plays with your nipples. Another rubbing your sex. “Mh- yes baby, imma cum too-“ you practically mewl out as you squirm against him. The fat on your body jiggled with every harsh thrust he gave you, his eyes fixated on you, mesmerized by your body.

Not too soon after you felt his hot thick cum oozing into your hole, filling you to the brim. Making you gasp loudly as his name falls from your lips one last time before you burst into climax around his softening dick.

Zen slowly pulls out and gives you a small forehead kiss with a goofy smile. “You took that like a champ.” You just roll your eyes and chuckle, pulling him down for a cuddle.

[finelinevogue]

lost n found

summary - you are lost in italy the night before your wedding

pairing: fiancé!harry x reader

word count: ~2k

You were definitely lost.

Drunk and lost.

To: harry - im so sor:(y

From: harry - Baby, you’re fine❤️ Drop me your location and I’ll come find you. Please don’t move xx

To: harry - okaY.i love you xox

So currently you were sat on a stone wall, somewhere on a random side street in a small Italian village, waiting for your boyfriend to come and pick you up.

Harry had gone out with a few of his closest guy friends for drinks, for one last night as an unmarried man.

You and your girls had gone out for drinks too and you had mentioned to the boys that you would catch them up later.

At some point during the evening, though, you and the girls had all gone to the beach and you had gone to the toilet. It had been a trek to find one, only when you tried to find your way back you took so many drunken wrong turns that you couldn’t tell your legs from rights now.

Reading a map was useless, but sending Harry messages wasn’t.

You originally hadn’t wanted to send him any messages, not wanting to ruin his last night a “free” man but at some point you had become a little too lost to care.

Swinging your legs as you sat on the wall, you watched the birds fly overhead amongst the clear blue sky. You detailed all the cracks in the old buildings and counted twelve windows on one wall alone.

Your brain was fuzzy and your eyes kept on wanting to close from tiredness. You would be blaming a lot of your girl friends tomorrow for the continuous passing of shots your way.

Your phone rang in your hand.

“Yeah?” You answered, not even checking the caller ID.

“Baby? Love? Can y’hear me?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not where y’said you’d be.” Harry sounded stressed.

“N-no I am. I sent you my location a-and I haven’t moved.”

You stood up and could feel yourself starting to panic. If Harry didn’t know where you were then there was no way of you knowing. Harry wasn’t ever a big enough drinker to get really drunk, unlike you.

You only ever got drunk when you felt you were in a safe environment, like tonight had been surrounded by all your closest girl friends. Or always with Harry.

Now that you didn’t have anyone and you were still drunk, you were getting anxiety of being alone and intoxicated.

Cue to shaky hands and tears.

“Are y’sure baby?”

“Y-yes. Fuck me. You’re not going to find me. Fuck. I don’t – shit – I.. I’m…”

“Hey, hey. Y/N, baby. Woah, slow down for me, okay? I am coming for you, okay? I just.. It was my mistake and I just need to relocate myself. You’re okay.”

Your phone was shaky in your hands and you started twisting your body around, as if expecting some random creepy guy to come around the corner and take advantage of you.

The twisting didn’t help your head, though, and was making you feel increasingly dizzy and sick.

“Y/N?” Harry asked urgently and you wondered whether you’d missed something he said.

“I-I’m scared.” You honestly said, backing yourself against a wall and trying to let the cool stone calm you down.

Your tears will no doubt have ruined your minimal makeup by now, not that that was a main priority of yours right now.

“Honey, you’re okay. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

Harry sounded like he was running.

His voice sounded a little breathy and you could hear the fast movement of wind through the speakerphone.

“Y/N, love, turn on your data.” Harry said.

“I ran out.” You banged your head back against the wall, not even thinking about the pain that just caused.

You whimpered as you sank down onto the floor, knees tucked close to your chest and arm wrapped around your legs. Your phone was still to your ear, with Harry’s voice being the only sane thing in this moment.

“Okay, okay.” Harry muttered to himself rather than you. More running sounded from Harry’s end of the phone. “Baby, y’still there?”

“Mm.”

Your mind travelled to many worst case scenarios and due to how bad they were your panic only increased.

This was supposed to be your last nights as an unmarried couple and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d ruined that. He must’ve been having such a good night.

You’d seen a couple of photos on his private Instagram story and other people’s Instagram stories. Your fiancé looked divine. He just looked so perfect that it was difficult to believe that he had chosen you and you got to call him yours.

It did make you nearly cry that he was thinking of you, via Instagram, though.

“You feeling okay, baby?” Harry asked.

“Don’t know. I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not angry or upset. Just want to make sure you’re okay, my love.”

“Okay.”

“So you have to be brave for me, okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

You got stuck for a moment, trying to think of possible ways you could calm yourself down and distract yourself. Luckily, Harry was already one step ahead.

“Hey, baby?” He grabbed your attention.

“Yeah.”

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but let the smile take over your face. You weren’t scared at all for tomorrow. You had no nervous jitters. All you felt was love in your heart for your husband to be.

“We are.”

“And you’re going to look so beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“I can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress. I bet it looks so pretty.”

You sniffled, building back your strength and overcoming your anxiety. A lot of your strength came from the love you hold for Harry.

You heard a noise from your left and looked to see a cat rustling through some litter.

Your heart deflated when you realised it wasn’t Harry. You knew he was coming though. He was on his way and he would not stop running until he found you.

It was almost like a bad scene out of a romance movie.

The night before your wedding and something terrible goes wrong. It’s a sign!

“I think it’s just perfectly me.” You said, talking about your wedding dress.

“Sounds perfect to me then.” Harry paused for a moment. “Baby, did you walk under an archway, like, uh, a stone archway covered in pink flowers?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t remember.” You ran a stressed hand over your forehead.

“Okay. That’s okay.”

“Everyone’s going to be so mad at me.” You began getting frustrated with yourself. “Fuck.” You breathed in a sob and exhaled with a bigger breath.

“Promise you no one’s mad, baby. Gem has messaged me a thousand times asking if you’re okay. I can’t even answer ‘cause this bloody maps apps is a fucking nuisance. I swear to–”

“Harry?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up from your knees to check your phone. He was still on the line. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” Harry shouted your name, but not from down the phone.

You could see Harry walking over to you very quickly, clearly panting from having run street after street.

“H.” You dropped your phone and cried as you saw him faster approach you.

Definitely a moment worthy of a romcom.

Harry was probably living his Ryan Gosling dreams.

“Baby, hey. I’m here. You’re okay.” Harry sank down to the floor and scooped his arms around you, pulling you close and squeezing oh so tight.

He sank down to his bum and leaned against the wall, pulling your entirely onto his lap. Too close wasn’t an option right now.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you sat sideways on his lap. Your face was tucked under his chin and his head rested on top of yours. You cried as Harry held you tight.

You couldn’t see Harry’s facial expressions but he was breathing out sighs of relief, some tears in his own eyes from the adrenaline of trying to find you. He had been just as scared as you, but had to remain strong for you. Now he had you he could let it all out.

“You’re never going to the toilet alone again.” Harry laughed. You laughed back.

“Deal.”

“That was scary.” Harry kind of mumbled, but you heard him anyways. He kissed your head a few times and you melted at the feel.

“Harry.”

“Yeah, love?”

“My head is so dizzy.”

Harry used a hand to tilt your head up so he could see your face. He noticed your mascara ridden face first of all, but beneath that you were all beauty.

“Tequila is only our friend for two rounds, remember?” He laughed at you. He was able to tell from your eyes that you weren’t exceedingly drunk, but definitely tipsy.

“I did not remember.”

He nuzzled his nose against yours as he shook his head with a grin. “You’re such a handful, you.”

“M’sorry.” You pouted.

“Never said I didn’t love you as a handful.”

“Do you? Love me a handful?” You used a hand to stroke over his cheek that had gotten so scruffy with the stubble he was trying to grow.

“‘Course. Love you every way and anyway. Love you so much. Love you until my body literally decomposes my wedding ring off my finger, and then some more.”

“That was dark, even for a 2AM drunk thought.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Harry chuckled, noticing that smile on your face becoming more and more permanent.

“But I’ll love you for the same.” You promised.

Harry kissed you then, not wasting another moment of this evening away from you. Well, morning now. His lips were soft against yours and you smiled into the kiss, happy that he was here with you even if it was under really weird circumstances.

“Let’s go, trouble. We’ll go back to the hotel and I’ll kiss you all night.”

“Don’t you want to spend the rest of your night with the boys? You know, last night as a free man?” Even though you were suggesting this, all you actually wanted to do was kiss, kiss and kiss him.

“Free man?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows with disgust, “What are you talking about?”

“You know? People say the last night before they get married is their last chance to be free?”

“Why would I need to be free when I’ve got you? I’m choosing you, like I always have. Never needed to be free.”

You smiled warmly at him. “I’m shackling you to me for life.”

“Too right you are, baby. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Now, take me home, trouble.” You giggled.

“Oh. So I’m the trouble now?”

liked by gemmastyles and 682,928 others

yourinstagram tomorrow i get your last name forever <3 p.s. i would like to state that harry bought himself that tshirt :)

view all 78,977 comments

harryfan1 oh to be y/n l/n

jeffezoff Where did you two go?

harryfan2 moustacherry fans rrIISEEEEE

harryfan3 wish my bf supported me with tshirts like that

jamescorden Tequila anyone?

harrystyles I am planning on wearing that tshirt tomorrow.

yourinstagram @/harrystyles the tshirt but nothing else please

gemmastyles @/jamescorden They aren’t coming back for tequila….

[prettyboykatsuki]

brocon | a. oliver

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader, unrequited love (from reader but not to oliver), presence of honorfics (nii-san mostly), incest (incestual roleplay and one sided incestual affection lol), oliver is not the older brother but he wishes he was, Too Casual About Incest in this one, oral (m!recieving), mentions of cervix fucking + deepthroating, cream pies, casual sex, 18+

✮ wc ; 2.5k

✮ a/n ; im reading too many doujinshis. everyday i become a little more insane. i miss you all. i also hate this guy.

c. consider this like a prelude by the way. im definitely going to expand on this universe rip.

also im dead fucking tired so tenses are all over the place. im gonna skip class tomorrow i think lol

✮ synopsis ; oliver is not put off by your brother complex. he probably should be.

Oliver isn’t very meddlesome.  

He’s a captain, but that’s as far as he’s ever willing to extend himself when it comes to getting deeply involved with other people. He loves soccer, loves strikers, etc. Annoying shit is tolerable if it’s for the love of the game.  

So in terms of his willingness to interfere, it starts and stops at soccer.  

The same is not true for relationships. Never has been really. He isn’t sure if he’s always been like that. He got his heart broken in high school, before his career took off and get much time to think about what he wanted after.  

He’ll never claim to be paragon of morality. Whether or not he’s pre-disposed for it, he’s been around the block and doesn’t take anything too seriously. A lot of what he’s down for just depends on where he’s at and he stands to gain. 

But, he’s always been straightforward about it so whatever.  

 From experience, he prefers dating women with a lot to lose - career driven types. Long term, they’re the easiest to break up with because they rarely chase after him and have little desire for the spotlight. He likes cute, innocent types too, for different reasons - but it can get messy easily so he has to be off season  to fuck them or date. His type in men depends on what he’s feeling. He likes getting topped by quiet, stoic men and likes topping slutty pretty boys. 

Case and point, Olivers type is whoever wants to fuck him and he wants to fuck too. It’s not complicated and isn’t defined by any particular thing. When it comes to appearance and personality - well he’s fine with whatever. He’s not really interested in being exclusive. He likes to have fun and like freely, or something like that.  

His only real criteria for sex and partnership are: discreet, sane, want to fuck him.  

You fit one of those parameters for sure.  You’re very discreet.  

But while you and Oliver are sleeping together, it’s not him you actually want.  

Oliver  met you a few months back. You were by yourself in the bar of a nice motel and dressed to the nines, crying alone over a drink. The game plan was simple. He would chat you up, console you, and bring you to bed. You both get to feel good, and you get to forget for a while.  

An attempted act of kindness and sincerity.  

He did just that too. Slid up next to you easy, bought you a drink. You were mostly sober - told him you had to drive early the next day. Alcohol was just to soothe your broken heart. You broke down after that. Red-rimmed watery eyes, barely keeping it together - it didn’t take much effort for Oliver to get you to open up. Apparently someone you loved had just got married. You even gave a speech for the wedding. Sobbed a little about how you’re happy he’s happy but you’re devastated.  

Oliver offered you a shoulder to cry on. Whispered in your ear real sweet about licking each others wounds for the night. How he’d be happy to help you forget. You went back to your hotel with little fuss. And he’s a half decent bastard after all, so he didn’t go too hard on you during the sex. Gave you boyfriend treatment as a consolation prize for your efforts. Foreheads pressed together, arms around his shoulders, lots of kissing and making eye contact.  

That kind of sex is fun sometimes, at least when it’s not very serious.  

You had great compatibility in bed. Some post coital pillow talk also revealed that your mutual interests meshed pretty well  - so you decided to see each other again for the purposes of fucking. Oliver needs a reliable partner who won’t try to ruin his career and you need a shoulder to lean on and forget about your true love.  

It was working out well for him really. And like he said, he’s not really the type to pry into other peoples affairs.  

For better or for worse though, having frequent sex with someone usually gets you acquainted with random aspects of their life. The friends parts of friends with benefits usually means you’re seeing some part of them you didn’t sign up for.  

It took three months of sleeping with you, around the 8th time you met up for sex, for him to realize who your unrequited love actually was.  

He thought it might’ve been someone off limits from the way you spoke about it. Though you tended to avoid the subject altogether.  

Had he known he was going to get involved with a girl that has the worst brother complex he’s ever seen, he would’ve reconsidered seeing you again.  

Maybe. Or maybe not.  

Truthfully, Oliver is less bothered by brocon thing than he thought he’d be. He hadn’t realized because of anything you told him. Just that once, you were laying on his chest when you got a call in the middle of the night from your older brother. 

You’re not the sweet type, to put it bluntly. Oliver would categorize you as the working professional sort with a lot to lose - high spec and calculating. Aside from the night he met you, he’d never seen you act in a way he would consider needy or childish - even after sex. Or ever, really - even when something happens that might garner that response.  

Seeing the way your eyes lit up, the way your whole demeanor changed as you spoke with him on the phone. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. He didn’t have plans to confront you about it at the time. It wasn’t really his business, or at least that’s what he told himself. 

At a certain point though, he felt like he couldn’t dance around it.  

He brought it up on a whim one night. Regretted it because he liked your current relationship and didn’t want it to end, but he felt it had to be done.  

He doesn’t know what exactly he was expecting, if anything at all. He thought you’d cuss him out or something. Tell him to fuck off and mind his business. Tell him to not be gross, maybe.  

But he didn’t expect tears, nor did he expect the childish sadness that came along with the mere mention of you beloved nii-san.  

That had made him wanna pry.  

It wasn’t hard to get you to open up about it. Frankly, he didn’t actually give a shit about the incest part, so you felt safe enough to tell him when he asked. Your older brother was basically your whole life. You’re half siblings, abandoned by the same parent. You had a rough upbringing but your older brother took care of you and sacrificed a lot. You realized you were in love with him in middle school and kept it in since. He’s about four years older than you and his wife is a very gentle person.  

Oliver isn’t concerned about the details. He’s nosy - so he asks but he wouldn’t’ve forced you if you didn’t want to talk about it. But it seems like you really did, since you were happy to tell him anything on your mind.  

You were…different after that. After he knew, you relaxed considerably. He didn’t think of you as guarded until you stopped being that way and started acting more… docile.  

Oliver doesn’t mind that change either, which is shocking for him. Usually you’re far off but after you cum, you soften up and act kind of… cute.  

 You’re a little clingier, and generally speaking - sweeter to him when you’re guard is down. It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose. You never ask Oliver to treat you any softer or get demanding with him. And there’s never an instance where he has to worry about if that’ll change because as nice as you are to him, it’s clear as day that no one in the world will ever surpass your affection for your older brother.  

(Once, after sex,  Oliver asks you what you like about about your older brother. The question comes as a shock to you both, but mostly to him because he isn’t sure why he thinks to ask. You’re happy enough to answer it though. According to you, he’s perfect.  

He’s kind and thoughtful, gentle and doting, tall, strong and handsome. You’ve got little hearts in your eyes when you say all this. You add towards the end that part of the reason you sleep with Oliver is because they’re so different you can forget all about it.  

He laughs at that, but he isn’t sure how sincere it is.) 

As time goes by, Oliver never gets  totally used to the change. As soon as you get a call or text from your beloved nii-san, you perk up like all the life has been breathed back into you. He hears you talk sometimes and it’s clear that your brother also probably has a bit of a sister complex.  

 You’re more open around Oliver sure - but it pales in comparison to when you get a call from him. How could a person be so different? He assumes the answer is love, but he can’t wrap his head around it having that much impact on your character.  

Oliver tries not to think about it.  

You’ve continued sleeping together out of habit and as time went  by  - you started to hang out for no real reason. It’s remained casual. You never want anything from him except dick and sometimes attention, but its clear that it isn’t from the one sided hope of becoming his girlfriend. And he knows almost too well that you don’t care for him in a special way because he knows what that looks like on you - and every kindness you’ve shown him is just who you are.  

It’s not like Oliver isn’t keenly aware of all of that.  

But it doesn’t stick until he offers up roleplaying with you on a whim.  

He suggests it to fuck with you really. And maybe because he’s a little irritated by it. He wants to upset you a little, petty as it is. See how you react. He was expecting you to get pissed off, maybe even cuss him out a little over being a jerk.  

That is not the reaction he receives. Instead you flush all over. Your hands fist on your knees and you get shy over just the prospect. He’s had you bent in every position known to man but he’s never seen you more embarrassed then the very idea of uttering the name nii-san in relation to sex.  

You do have a moment of sobriety after the fact, hit him with your pillow and tell him not to be a dick.  

But then, he can’t let it go. So he grabs you by the wrist and says it’s fine. It’s what he’s here for isn’t he? Always has been.  

Only seeing it does it start to really click.  

It’s the most intense sex you’ve ever had , and it doesn’t feel  profoundly fucked up until you take his dick  into your mouth. Hearts in your eyes while he strokes your hair, swallowing his cock - nuzzling it, kissing, it and being so devoted he doesn’t know if he’s the most unlucky man alive or the least.  

You’re always a sight for sore eyes when you’re hoping to please him somehow. You’re a little haughty in bed in a way he’s into— 

But fuck, it’s different when you’re doing it for your big brother. He’s never seen you so horny in his life. Touching yourself so desperately while you’re deepthroating his length, eyes rolling back into your skull as you swallow him all the down to the base. Moaning into it even as you gag and hiccup and spit.. Drool clinging to your lips, stretched all the way to the corners  - wetness sliding down the curve of your neck and chest. Your face flush, damp tears clinging to your lashes while he strokes his thumb against your cheek and tells you the same few words over and over.  

Nii-san’s so proud of you. You’re being so good for your me. Over and over, reinforcing it again and again. Hearing the words and just thinking of it seem to be enough for you.  

It’s about the same when he does finally fucks you. Oliver gets into it at the end. Puts you in a full nelson and fucks you stupid, the head of his cock battering into you and demanding to be let in. You feel good split apart on his dick - pussy stretched so tight it barely fits him.  

You always do your best to take him, but he sees what the affection does to you. You get so horny that you spread your legs without being fucked open on his fingers first. Your body is responsive to it. He almost feels bad for your brother, not getting to know what it feels like. Oliver is only playing pretending but your cunt squeezes his dick so tight, holds onto him like  it doesn’t want to let go. It’s not even the real thing yet your body is keen on milking him. Built and bred like it was made for your older brother to fuck.  

He’ll never get the chance too. Oliver relishes in it more than he can be honest about.  

Once he’s inside, you tell Oliver in a lust drunk haze that nii-san can have whatever he wants. That’s when he knows you’re running on nothing but lust. And by then, he is too. You whimper when he moves - say yes when he hisses that he’s gonna fuck you deep enough to flood your cervix. Nod desperately when he offers to fuck your cervix open too.  

It’s nothing but filthy bullshit but the words come out easier as his cock keeps slipping out of you from how wet you are over the thought alone.  

It finally settles in when when you’ve nearly fucked yourself unconscious. Riding his cock with your tshirt pulled up over your tits, eyes closed and legs wobbling - saying it over and over. Begging for your brother who you love so dearly while you  fuck on him with all the strength in your hips.  

Seeing that makes him realize that he’s not a stand-in.  

Only because it’s an impossible outcome in the first place.  

It’s the first time he cums inside of you, and the first time you cry after sex. Oliver holds you afterwards. You whisper a thank you so sincere to him afterwards he loses his fucking mind, all soft and watery and needy. Don’t protest when he pulls you into a bath or holds you.  

You stay with him through the night and he realizes right about then that he’s completely and utterly fucked. 

It’s his karma, he assumes. Wanting a girl who has a severe brother complex is Oliver’s own special hell - hand crafted to make him feel as fucked up as possible.  

But damn does he want you bad anyway.  

[starboye]

Kinktober Day 15

starring: bellamy blake x male reader

request: bellamy blake x thick fem boy reader, where everyone is having a party with drinking and dancing, and bellamy see reader dancing with other men and they keep grabbing his big ass bc it’s so big. so bellamy takes reader away and fucks that ass (also some face sitting 😏)

warnings: smut, cursing, rough sex, face sitting, mentions of alcohol, grinding, ass grabbing, ass slapping, cum eating, unprotected sex, creampie, femboy!reader

directors cut: hey frien- oop did you do something different with your hair, or is it a new skincare routine because your skin is glowing, am i buttering you up to make you forget about the fact im behind on these kinktober stories.... obvi no why would i ever do such a thing... was it working though

you were irresistible, the way you danced with everyone else had bellamy thinking thoughts that should not be heard by anyone let alone you, but he couldn't control his find with the way you dressed, your shorts riding up your ass which left little to nothing to imagination.

and damn did he love the way you moved your body around the campfire, bottle of alcohol in hand, taking messy swigs from it from time to time, but what instantly ruined the mood was when some random dude came up behind you and started touching up on you.

that should be him so why does this fuck bag get to grab on your ass and may i say luscious thighs, he was getting way to close for comfort also, he was basically fucking you through his clothes, seeing as this didn't sit right with bellamy he walked over and snatched you away from the party and dragged you to a nearby tent.

"bellamyyyy what the fuck i was just having fu-" your cut off by his lips crashing against your and him taking off your tight shorts to reveal your wobbly ass, it was like putty in his hands or like a water balloon with the way it jiggled in his hands "you gonna just stand there and look or are y'gonna get to work" bellamy smirked and you got to work in taking off his shirt and yours but struggled with his pants.

those goddamn buttons were so hard to get off it was annoying both of you so bellamy just opted to keep them on and unzip them to slide his cock through, and with that the moaning soon began, bellamy fucking you into the ground with hard thrusts, there wasn't much cushioning between the blanket you had under you and the ground so with the hardening thrust so came the hurting back.

"fuck bellamy, go a little softer i am still on the ground" you strain out through thrusts "would you like me to fuck you doggy style till you have no feeling in your legs" bellamy asks roughly with deep grunts making you shake your head no "then shut up" he growls as his hands tighten around the blanket under you.

your eyes were flicking to the back of your head with every thrust he made, punching a moan out of you every time, it was hard to even stay sane when you had a cock like his splitting your hole in two like a fucking piece of wood but god did you love it, it felt so good, his strong body on top of yours while he fucked you was like seeing the mona lisa.

oh but bellamy, well he just loved the way your hole fit him nicely, and the way your ass recoiled with every plap heard but drowned out by the partying and singing from the group further away "only if the group saw you now hm taking my cock like a fucking slut, so pretty" he snarled slapping your as harshly, your whole body jolting to the pain but it also kinda turned you on more.

more just enough to cum, all your cum landing in a puddle on your stomach "you tighten up when you cum, did you know that" bellamy laughs at your slightly dazed state "yeah thanks bill nye the fucking science guy" you joke "fuck im gonna cum" bellamy suddenly grunts and for a split second you can feel him about to pull out so you lock your legs around his waist.

and before his brain can even clock what you did he cums, he eyes rolling into the back of his head as he does so, it just felt so good i mean how could he contain it "slut" bellamy mutters slowly pulling out of your messy hole "i know you are but what am i" you laugh making him grab your face to kiss you before plopping down next to you.

he suddenly gained an idea in the dull head of his "sit on my face" he bluntly asks "what" you shaken by the request "sit on my fucking face" bellamy asks again and if it mean shutting him up then yes please, you straddle your legs to the side of his head and fully sit on his face, all your weight pressed down on him like if he was a chair.

to him he was in heaven, tongue poking at your hole and exploring your depths as he ate you out literally, he sucked and swallowed the cum from your hole like a five star meal before lifting you off him for some air "now that's what im talkin' about" he excitedly said, seems like this was going to be a reoccurring thing from now on

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft

[chewysgummies]

Coming back to this post again, my point still stands. Ngl when I say that as a killbot 86 fan, The Bounty is gonna be THE WORST episode for him and they should absolutely make it up by giving him a proper introduction in the future S3 episode and actually treat him seriously instead of making their characters be lame and weak af just for slapstick as they usually do. I hate to sound upset, but my GOD they sabotage him.

Before I go to sleep, I just wanna say that this show did killbot 86 so fucking dirty bro.

As if Sylvia didn't have it bad, Killbot 86 had it worst cause he literally exists for that one episode where Peeper acts like a lil bitch and whines like a crybaby to lord hater cause he suck at his job. And dead ass that episode got multiple animation errors so they literally introduced Killbot 86 in such a lame way by giving him multiple design errors in his first debut while also getting shit on by Peeper so they can prove that he's actually a "CoOL and bADaSs" character that grew a spine in s2 after kissing Lord hater's ass throughout s1. He has such a unique design & and the potential to shine only for them to just keep using him just so he can get his shit kicked in by the main two characters and then leave. That's it. That's literally it. And we barely got to know him so the guy had zero characters other than him being a bad guy & a bounty hunter. In which that could've been interesting cause bounty hunter's job is to capture criminal & fugitive. They're not actually bad guys themselves. But this show really treats them like they are, so now I'm wondering what killbot 86's true motive is since that "Evil as can be" karaoke basically confirmed him to be a villain. And since I love him much, it just upset me now that I'm thinking about it. If he doesn't show up again in S3 and at least give him a proper introduction again after a whole ass decade. What the fuck was the point then.

[brotherwtf]

we all know that Callum is a chronic waist grabber, and Austin's waist is just fucking there to be grabbed (slutty waist epidemic patient zero) so have some hcs about Buck and Bucky waist grabbing

During the war, Bucky could barely keep it in his pants whenever Buck would wear his dress uniform; it just pinched him in all the right places and gave him such a nice shape that Bucky could hardly resist. Bucky literally has to sit on his hands to prevent them from snaking around Buck's waist and pulling them closer together. He does it a couple of times when he gets drunk beyond compare and blames it on the alcohol when Buck gives him a look.

After the war, Bucky still can't seem to keep his hands off of Buck's waist even in plain clothes, the linen shirts frame his proportions just right to beg Bucky to put his hands there. Buck always chuckles, puts a hand on top of Bucky's and gives him a kiss on the cheek when he settles in at his side.

Im thinking about THE (tm) Austin Butler pic (you all know the one) and foaming at the mouth thinking about Buck wearing something like that; it framing his waist so perfectly and showing the tiniest sliver of skin, just enough to make Bucky bonkers. He'd grab Buck with both of his hands, fingers almost touching as they close around his waist, and just hold him there. When he feels a bit more adventurous, he would glide his hands up the space towards Buck's back and pull him in for a kiss, loving that Buck sighs against him in content. ALSO Bucky will try to hold onto Buck's waist anytime they kiss, and Buck will hold his forearms in place to prevent him from going anywhere.

It turns him on so much that whenever they are having sex he almost has to hold onto Buck's waist just to keep him sane. Whenever Buck is riding him, he'll put his hands there and help him move back against him; completely entranced by how beautiful Buck looks.

Buck likes Bucky's obsession with his waist too, it drives him crazy that Bucky's hands are just so big when they hold onto him, he makes a big show about pushing him away but secretly loves when Bucky holds onto him. Buck will sometimes guide Bucky's hands down to his waist when they're kissing just so he can feel held.

Hey can you guys tell I can't stop thinking about that pic of Austin

[bluexphoria]

⤳ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃

pairing. modern!aegon targaryen x fem!reader

summary. an unlikely friendship born out of coincidences and choices neither of you would have ever made had it been any other time. but here you are and here he is. friends. even when you two should have been anything but. even when you two should have been nothing at all.

word count. 4.8k (this is long, sorry)

warnings. modern au. toxic friendship. addiction. drug use. alcohol use. cursing/swearing. bad language overall. unreliable narrator. aegon is bad but you are no better. extremely complicated friendship, the question "so what are we?" hangs over your head like a haunting ghost. reader has MAJOR mommy issues, yes i am is self projecting. Aegon has his fair share of issues with his family but really, nothing new. implied relapsing and implied threats of suicide (not by aegon or reader). Unrequited love (debatable). Possible grammar mistakes. oh and very reader centric.

notes. i'm gonna be honest guys, this is my first fanfic (probably also the last) and i'm genuine not sure about anything in this lmao (im having a panic attack) but anywayss this one is for you @fishyfables hope u like it <333

It's past midnight and you're parked somewhere, somewhere you don't even know. There is a man beside you, looking somewhere and seeing something that you don't see. There isn't a smile on his face, because you are alone, because he doesn't have to pretend.

He reaches for your seat belt, unbuckles it with experienced hands; his pretty, quick, and skilled fingers brush against your body. And he has lovely eyes, like a pair of amethyst carved into his eye socks and he looks at you in the way he shouldn't look at you.

Yet he always looks at you like this. Dazy, glossy, and desperate. You reach over and nod at him.

There is a man in your car, because it is past midnight and you are his friend, possibly his only real friend, the only one he can trust. Or so you like to think. Maybe it's because you are the only one who is sober enough to pick him up while his other friends are getting worse than him.

There is a man in your car, and then there is a man on top of you — leaning over your body, he caresses your cheeks and whispers how you should leave him (you can't leave him, he holds you too tight), how you can find better friends (he never allowed you to get close to any other people enough to know them and be friends) and how pretty you are, too pretty for him, too good (you are not. He doesn't know that you are not, because he doesn't want to know you. He likes the way you are in his imagination — untouchable, perfect, and flawless).

There is a man in your car, and you think he might just kiss you this time. He doesn't. He never does. Instead, he breaks down into tears, his hands slips from your cheeks to your shoulders and he buries himself to your chest, fucking up your shirt with tears and snot and whatever else he had his lips on that night. He apologizes, he always does, but you know better than those are not meant for you.

There is a man in your car, you drive him to his house, get him out of his dirty clothes and help him into a bath. You tuck him to his bed, and he begs you to stay with him.

You don't.

(Note that: he never means it.)

You met Aegon during the end of your first year at college.

It was a party that was thrown by your friend's friend's friend, or whatever. You hadn't have many plans for the night. Dress up and feel pretty, dance with your friends if you feel like it, have a drink or two (as always, you were the designated driver), and maybe hook up with someone. You deserved it, managing to pass most of your classes, you damn right you deserved it.

And most of the night went according to your plans. Except: him.

He was never a part of the plan. No sane person would ever include him in their plans.

He was standing over there, talking with a few boys, laughing the loudest. He looked…messy. You would learn that it was not an occasional thing but rather a consistency. He always looked out-of-place, wrongly put together.

And Aegon, with his messy silver hair and purple eyes adorned with dark circles under them, you knew him, or at least heard about him enough — who hadn't?

The son of the infamous Viserys Targaryen — a big guy with bigger money and a bigger name. Coming from old money, managing to adapt to the modern world and its technology and doubling or even tripling their wealth by getting into the business world. Companies, markets, whatever one could think of. Their name was branded on the boards, to places, hotels and channels. TargCo.

Oh yeah, you knew about him.

He was the biggest stain splat on the brand, golden name "Targaryen". Even if the family had their notorious members in the past, Aegon outdid them in his short span of twenty years of life. Scandals after scandals, his face on the news and papers; his name falling from everyone's mouth.

His name was almost like a legend; one that a mother would tell their child as a bedtime story, a scary story, to make sure their child would stay away from things and behave.

He wasn't around the campus much, maybe a few times you recalled your friends talking about him, about seeing him. He didn't need to attend to pass the classes. He just needed to make sure to call the right person, or make the right person to call the dean. Whatever he was doing, it worked.

That piece of shit.

You had to admit that at least one week (especially during the finals week), you cursed his name so much that if god was real, Aegon would have been miserable by now, if not dead.

But he seemed happy. That night, he seemed happy. And he was laughing, loudly, unashamedly that you didn't doubt it. (You would learn that Aegon had never been genuinely happy, not once in his life, but he always seemed like it.)

And most of all, he looked human. That's what irritated you that night.

He looked so approachable, so like any other guy, so attainable, so easy to reach.

So you did. You walked up to him — a faint smile, little laughs, touches on the shoulder, having a few shots together, whispers in the ear, legs brushing each other and that was it. The next thing you knew, he had his hand on your waist, leading you to one of the unoccupied rooms, stumbling with his steps, complimenting you or your dress or your make up — you didn't remember much, honestly. You didn't really care enough to listen, knowing that most of them were memorized and overused words that each girl who gave him just the right amount of attention heard.

It was never supposed to be a friendship. It really wasn't. You just had to have what you heard so much about from girls who got into his bed and then fuck off and regret it in the morning and forget about it completely in a month.

And you were close to getting what you wanted — everything seemed as it was supposed to be. A drunk boy and a drunk girl (no longer the designated driver), in a room during a frat party, both wanting the same thing.

His hands under your dress, his mouth on yours. You wanted to bite his lip, dig your teeth into the pink flesh and draw blood. You never knew why. You just didn't like him enough to hurt him but also mark him but mostly hurt him and maybe more so to make him remember you in the morning when he looks at the mirror.

You held back. (You usually do.)

His touch was greedy, that you remember impeccably. He was taking more than he was giving.

And then his phone rang. Once, twice, three times and until he couldn't ignore anymore. Until he had to groan and pull away from the kiss, muttering an excuse under his breath ("give me a second") and turning his back to you.

You remember the frustration you felt, wondering if there was something wrong with him or maybe something wrong with you because you did wait, you sat on the bed, looking at the chaotic room and waiting for him to finish his phone call in the hallway and return to you. You were drunk and determined and horny, and so you would finish what you started.

You didn't.

He returned, but his hands were shaking, his steps more miscalculated as his chest heaving with loud gasps. His eyes were red, his look was unfocused. And now looking back at it, you are sure that for a moment he had completely forgotten about you and your presence in the room.

And if you hadn't gone to his assistance when he suddenly began puking out everything he drank, perhaps he wouldn't even remember you. That would be a better outcome; he would just vomit and get up and maybe go into the shower and you would sneak out like you had never been there, like you were merely a ghost.

But you helped him. You held him, wiped his mouth when he was done, carried him to the bathroom to clean his face and offered to give him a ride home.

Unfortunately, he agreed.

Though, you didn't drive. You were in no right mind to hold a wheel. You called a cab and for some reason, you went with him. You two sat at the backseat, his head laid on your lap, your fingers gently playing with his hair and he was telling you about the things you should have never heard.

About his mum — the unexpected caller. About his dad, which came out of nowhere. About his childhood, and even about his brother for some reason. And he had a half-sister. His family was huge, which was known by everyone who knew him or knew the name Targaryen.

But Aegon had no family. He never did. That was the secret.

And he told you more, more than you wanted to hear, less than he actually wanted to tell someone.

And you held him. You didn't let go, through the whole ride to his place because of course he had his own place during college years. And you didn't let go when you helped him through the steps, and then into his shower, then to his bed. And he pulled you in. He had your hands and you didn't let go.

Or, he didn't let go. It was hard to tell.

There are stories in you that you wish to take it to the grave; or even better, forget it all. Most of them are not even yours.

Like the one time when your mother confessed that she had never wanted this, neither wanted you. How she was once your age, how she wanted to be more, to have more, to live more — and how she almost made it out. But then she had you. And she cried. She was drunk, you weren't. She held you; hands like clamps, dug around your flesh, almost bruising but bruising like lovemaking. You tucked her tight but never left the room.

Like the time when you heard your friend talking to her girlfriend on the phone, begging, pleading to take her back. ("I didn't mean to, honey. I promise — I promise! I was good! I was doing good! Please come back, I'll do better. I'll get clean again — swear, I swear, I will, please! No you can't! Fuck you! Fuck you for leaving me! You are no fucking different than the rest! Fuck you! You know what, I'm gonna fucking do it! You'll regret it, you'll miss me but I won't be there, you ungrateful—") Then a big crashing sound, you recognized it immediately; something thrown at the wall. Her phone, mostly. And then herself. You changed your mind from knocking, you forgot what you were there for in the first place.

And there are times when… When Aegon.

Just Aegon. On the passenger seat, or on a couch, sometimes in his bed, sometimes in your bed. He is mostly drunk or sometimes high, occasionally both.

He holds you, and you hold him. His lips on your skin, and your hands under his shirt. He whispers.

You deserve better.

I love you.

You are my best friend.

You are my only friend.

You deserve better.

You never reply. There is no better. Because it is never about him, the problem is never him. You will never find yourself where you should be because you don't know where that is.

But he is familiar.

He stinks of alcohol, he cries a lot, he admits things he could never say to someone else while holding onto you, and he never remembers anything the next day. (You do. Oh you do.) He touches you and kisses you and it doesn't mean anything. There is no love in his affection; it's not about you, it's about him. He needs this. He needs someone; someone to listen to him, someone to carry him home, someone to understand him, someone to not judge him, someone to be there.

You can't be you but you can be someone. That is familiar too.

And he doesn't love you.

Not even when he pulls you to himself as if he wants to bury himself in you and hide there forever, not even when he begs you to fix him, not even when he takes you with him to wherever he goes because you have to be there to pick up the pieces, not even when he tells you how much he loves you, and how glad he is to have you in his life. And that is the most familiar; that is what you know the best.

He doesn't love you.

And your mother didn't love you.

And sometimes there is a fear that maybe you don't either.

(Note that: he is not what you are searching for.)

(Note that: he is everything you will ever search for.)

"Y'know, there is still time for us to make a U-turn…"

He laughs, shaking his head as he changes the song. First mistake was to let him pick the music.

No, the first mistake was to ever agreeing to this.

"Stop complaining. They are not exactly the best parents out there, but they are…hospitable people," Aegon grins.

You sigh, fingers tapping on the wheel as you try to keep your focus on the road. You are his unofficial driver, yes, ever since he managed to crush the last car he had while drunk driving and his father refused to buy him a new one to teach him a lesson.

Maybe that's why he keeps you around, who knows.

"I don't know, Aeg," you begin, your eyes darting between the road and him. He is leaning his shoulder against the window, whistling a melody that doesn't rhyme with the song. "After spending two years listening to you bitch about your family, I'm not sure if I can pretend to like them to their faces."

"'Course you can!" He amuses, flashing that full tooth grin at you as always. "You are the best liar I know."

"Oh fuck off," you roll your eyes. You don't exactly understand what he tries to say, or where he is coming from, but you are sure it is probably about any time you lied to your professors or your other friends.

You smirk faintly, turning to him for a moment. "You look good today, by the way."

Now, he is the one rolling his eyes. He slaps your shoulder, huffing like a child.

It always satisfies you to wipe that stupid grin off of his face. It is a victory.

One that maybe a friend shouldn't enjoy.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep that up, pretty, and I'm sure you'll get along with my family no time," he mutters, scoffing before changing the song again. He really can't commit to anything, always getting bored too quickly and always gives up half the way.

The rest of the ride goes quickly. Aegon sings along with the annoying songs he always picks, only the ones he knows you hate but you're too deep in your head to be as irritated as usual.

You don't know why he invited you to meet his family. Really. You don't even know why he accepted to see them and didn't make an excuse to skip a get-together like he usually does.

Maybe his father has gotten worse. But from what you know, Viserys has never, ever, been good. And Aegon pretends good enough for you to sometimes think that he wouldn't show up to his father's funeral when the day comes.

Maybe it's about his mother, and whatever complicated relationship they have going on. Because he never has the guts to loudly reject her, for some reason, despite always complaining about Alicent to you.

Or maybe he missed his family…

…

Yeah no, not that. For sure.

Whatever it was, he asked you to drive him. And when you said that he could just take a flight or a bus, he rolled his eyes.

"It would be a waste of money to buy two seats when you already have a car."

First of all, he was rich, so fuck him for complaining about money. And second of all, he didn't even ask you if you wanted to come. You had to. He decided this was the time you would finally meet the Targaryens.

And well, you don't have anything better to do that week, so…

You are driving and he is in the passenger seat, which is basically now his seat. The drive had been hours long and it really isn't that enjoyable to spend hours stuck in a limited space with your best friend where you can't take a moment to get out and clear your head to recharge because while you love him, absolutely and completely, he is too much sometimes.

When you finally see the trees that adorn the huge garden of the estate — of course they own a family estate and possibly more than one — you let out a relieved breath.

"Here it is! Chateaux de Targaryen!" Aegon exclaims beside you and you can't help but laugh. Just a little. "C'mon! You're going to hate it here! Let's go."

You've always imagined Alicent Targaryen as a cold woman — no flinch, no smile, hardened eyes and rough hands. You don't know why. (You do. It's Aegon. It's always Aegon.)

But she is…nothing like that. She is gentle, in a way that throws you off. Gentleness seems so misplaced, so unfit on her. She is a woman made to rage, but she looks so faint, like a lingering ghost that is never ready to finally let go.

It's hard to imagine her as cruel as her son depicts. But then again, you are not her son. She is not your mother. There must be a difference.

She is a hospitable though, as Aegon promised. She makes good small talk but not too friendly. She makes sure to act curious about your life and she reacts to everything you tell her.

Viserys is not that bad either. He is… he is barely there. You haven't gotten a chance to talk to him, only saw him from afar while his wife helped him to walk in the gardens. He looks dead, with a smile and sad eyes.

Unlike Alicent, he seems eager to let go.

It's Aegon's brother that lights the bub above your head. You understand the hesitation why Aegon never wants to come home.

Aemond is perfect. There is no other word to describe him. He is handsome, respectful, well-mannered, confident, talks just enough, listens just enough, laughs just enough. Even his flaws, like the eye patch and the mocking smirk or the belittling look he throws at Aegon from time to time seems to add to his charm.

The difference is, Aemond is loved. By the house workers, by Helaena's kids, by the guests and distant family members and most importantly, by Alicent. She is proud of him and it is too easy to tell.

And you can see the green envy filling your best friend's eyes whenever Alicent pats Aemond's shoulder, praises him on his studies or whatever he has done because he does everything perfectly, gentle forehead kisses Alicent gives him whenever she stands up from the table… None of that you have seen received by Aegon.

And that is when you understand— truly understand Aegon.

And your hand finds his under the table, giving him a squeeze and he returns it. Your eyes meet and you nod at him.

I'm here.

I'm here.

That's why you are there. That's why he had taken you with him. That's why he takes you everywhere.

You don't talk much, you don't smile a lot but you have hands and that's enough for Aegon. That's all he needs. Limbs to wrap around him, skin to warm his flesh, a warm breath to feel against his to remind him that you are there — and he's there too.

He exists, he is there, he is seen, he exists.

(Note that: sometimes you are just hands.)

He sneaks into your room (the guest room) when everyone has gone to bed. You are awake, you are waiting for him.

You greet him with an eye roll and he ignores it. He takes you out of the room, both of you walking on tiptoes as he takes you somewhere only he knows — and now you too. He makes sure to stop by the kitchen to 'borrow' a bottle of wine, of course.

The house estate is surrounded by woods that look like shadows tangled after midnight. You complain about the chilly weather and he doesn't give you his jacket ("And why didn't you bring yours?") but he wraps his arm around you, pulling you to his side as you walk.

There is a big rock deep in the woods, enough for four people to sit on and there is a small opening encircling it.

"I used to sneak out to here. I found it when I was like — nine, ten, or something, maybe even twelve," he says as he holds your hand and pulls you to his side to sit down.

You hum. "How did you find it?"

He pauses, one second, two, three and then shrugs. "I ran away. Tried to."

Nine or ten, maybe twelve and he had already tried to run away. It's no big surprise that he turned out this way.

You don't say anything, you know he doesn't need you to even though he might have preferred if you did.

And so, he continues.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I just, I think I had a fight with mum and ended up slamming the door which made her furious. I remember screaming my first swear word to her and I immediately regretted it. Then I just…left. I don't know. Maybe I thought that if they couldn't find me for a day or two, they would be so worried that they would forget they were even mad in the first place. It seemed smart."

"It wasn't."

"I was seven. I didn't need to be smart."

You don't comment on the slip up.

Aegon sighs and reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. His grip is a little too tight, so you hold him tighter.

"I spent a night and a half, waiting for them to find me. I was sitting on this rock, waiting and waiting. They didn't. And I was hungry, and thirsty so I went back." Another pause, a squeeze. "They were even more furious than I had left them. That was the first time my mother had ever raised her hand to me. It wasn't the last."

You lean your head against him, giving him a nod to make sure he knows that you're listening. Your full attention is on him.

"They asked me where I had been, I didn't tell them. Just that I got lost. It was supposed to be a one time thing. But I kept coming back here whenever I felt like I wanted to escape. Each time, I returned."

There is a moment of silence, and neither of you don't know how to fill it. There's no stars in the sky, and there's no one in the woods but somehow, being here makes you lighter. Like this was a place cut out from the rest of the world, a planet on its own, where humanity was no longer any of your business, where you didn't have to worry about tomorrow.

"What are you escaping from tonight?" You finally ask.

He turns to you, and there's a curl of his lips. It's not a grin, not a smirk. Just a smile.

"Nothing," he says, and you think he might just be honest this time. "I just wanted to show you."

You have a doubt that it was that, just that.

Yes, maybe he wanted to just show you. Maybe he wanted someone to finally know where to find him the next time he escapes.

Maybe, for once, Aegon wanted to be found.

Or maybe, it was all he ever wanted.

Aegon doesn't know love very well, but he knows you.

More than you think he does, he's sure. And you know him, just less than you think you do.

He knows that you didn't have to take care of him that night, the night you met at the party. But you did. And he knew when he woke up in the morning finding you beside him, both of you fully clothed and one arm around his body, he just knew.

This might be just what he has been searching for.

And everyone thinks Aegon is a lazy bastard but he isn't, not when he wants something.

If he wants something, there's no god or fate that would stop him from getting it.

He had sought you out on the campus the next day, and the rest of them. He has never been the one to show up, but he wanted to see you and you were there. Though, it didn't stick. The moment he had convinced you to hang out after your classes, go to parties with him or just stay in his place, he stopped showing up on the campus regularly.

The night at the party, he knew you wanted to sleep with him, and believe me, god, he wanted the same. But it never happened, it just didn't.

Maybe seeing him in tears or wiping the vomit off his mouth had just ruined the mood for you or ruined the magic, but you never tried to cross that line again and for some reason, he didn't either. It just didn't feel the same again.

But he likes talking and you are a good listener. You make good coffee, even though he never liked it before he tasted yours and you both don't like sleeping that much. Countless nights spent with him and you, side by side, resting on his bed or just sitting outside or somewhere, talking and laughing and doing…human things. Bonding, chatting, getting to know each other, being honest, with no expectations, no promises — only "So this is me. Do you take it?" And the silence followed after, and silence had never been a rejection.

It is almost pathetic how unfamiliar he was with the concept until he met you.

If he is being honest, he still finds you attractive. Of course you are. He thinks you are charming; and whatever he needs, you find a way to give it to him. He doubts himself sometimes, wondering if he had ever returned the favor. But you are still there, and you probably will be there and does the rest matter?

He is sure that this is love, at least in one form or some.

You are, for him.

But he knows you. He knows that whatever you feel for him is not what he wants you to feel. And he knows that what you see when you look at him will never be what he wants to show you. And he knows that in your eyes, he will always be the teary eyed, stumbling, wreck of a boy you met.

He wants your touch, because maybe if you feel his skin, feel the warmth, it might just melt the ice around your sheltered heart. And if he gives you everything you don't get from anyone else, maybe you will let him in. He speaks in flesh, in bones and lips and fingers and nails — and you speak in a language he didn't know it existed.

You don't speak at all.

You are his best friend, he is not yours. He doubts you have anyone else either. You are not made for people, you are not made to be known.

You see, but are never seen; you hear, but are never heard.

But you love him, you might be the only one who does. And he doesn't care if it's not the way he needs to be loved. It's what he gets, it's fine. It's better than nothing.

Sure, it could have been more, had you let him in — he could have shown you how greatly, abundantly, exceedingly one can be loved that it will feel like drowning (choking). And you could have shown him what he taught you, maybe.

But you two don't know how to speak to each other; you only know how to exist, and you manage to do it together. Maybe that's enough.

Surely, it's more than he deserves.

So he doesn't ask for more.

He is sure you wouldn't know how even if he had asked.

(Note that: both of you think you know the other better)

(Note that: neither of you know the other.)

[stxrvel]

i don't wanna live forever (1)

summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4.5k

warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!

note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3

part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.

They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.

You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.

Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.

Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.

“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.

“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”

But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.

“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.

You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.

“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.

The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.

You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.

You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?

Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.

“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”

Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.

“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”

You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.

“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”

“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.

“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”

Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.

“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.

Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.

Another empty casket.

“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”

You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.

“Yeah, let's go.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.

Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.

Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.

Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.

You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.

You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.

But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.

Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.

She looked so different and the same at the same time.

You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.

“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.

“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.

During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.

When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.

Howard had died.

You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.

Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.

This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.

You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.

Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.

“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”

“Does Tony know?”

“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”

“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.

“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”

“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.

“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.

“But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.

“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.

“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.

“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”

With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.

“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”

“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.

“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.

“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”

“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.

“And look how that turned out!”

Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.

You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.

“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.

“Do you think it is?”

“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”

You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.

And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.

However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.

The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.

During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.

After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.

She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.

For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?

You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.

You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.

“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.

“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”

“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.

“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”

“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”

“You look agitated, but I need-”

“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”

You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.

You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.

You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.

You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.

Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.

Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.

“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”

“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.

“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”

“We got a call from the Arctic.”

“From the Arctic?”

You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.

“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”

You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.

You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.

You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.

Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.

Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.

The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.

You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.

Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.

You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.

Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.

And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.

[master-kohga-dating-sim]

im insane about these guys i literally cant stop drawing them,,, they love each other so much and thats stronger than all the stuff trying to kill them and alterra's stupid relationship contracts and even with 164 lives lost 2 is enough to cure the planet. im so normal (btw yes this is abt my fanfic because im sane)