#it was either this or more fireworks angst; your choice

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

a darling and a virgin | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you are a victor from district four, having just ended your first victory tour. after being confronted by president snow, you have no choice but to lose your virginity. luckily, your previous mentor is willing to provide some guidance.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: mentions of forced prostitution, angst, gentle smut, loss of virginity, fingering, lots of consent, praise, happy but also unhappy ending??, reader takes contraceptives.

notes: i’ve recently found that i’m incapable of writing short smut one shots so… i’m sorry y’all. love describing every detail too much.

word count: 6.8k

Your hands were clasped over the balcony railing of the penthouse you were spending the night in, the vibrant artificial lights of the Capitol burning your retinas as you overlooked the city. You had finally completed your first Victory Tour and were offered one more night in the Capitol to enjoy its ‘luxury’ and ‘generosity’ before returning to District Four in the morning.

For the past two weeks, you had read fabricated speeches to each District, resurfacing both your trauma from the Games and the families of the tributes you had murdered in the arena. The toll it was taking on you was heavy, but you managed to put on a splitting grin for every interview, speech, and disturbing congratulation. But not for your previous mentor, Finnick Odair.

Finnick had been there for you through the whole nightmare, even during the week before your Games. His support was unwavering which was one of the many reasons you had managed to survive from the moment you were Reaped to the end of the Tour. It was hard to tell when his mentorship had turned into something more complicated, but it had. It had become more about feelings than simply survival. Not a relationship per se, but not just a friendship either. You teetered on the line between the two, never crossing it and never discussing the fact that you were both aware of it either.

For six whole months.

When the final destination of the Tour came—the grand celebration at President Snow’s mansion—Finnick had told you it was the easiest part. All you had to do was manage a happy face, mingle with obnoxious Capitol citizens, and eat an abhorrent amount of food. He would have been right if you were a different person. If President Snow hadn’t demanded your singular presence at the end of the night.

You exhaled a shaky breath, watching the white mist drift into the light-polluted sky. The President’s words bounced around your head: Desirable… Customers... Family. The conversation played on a loop in your mind. You could remember the repugnant smell of roses, the overwhelming whiteness in the room, and the way his too-pleasant face lit up as fireworks exploded outside the window.

Shivers trickled down your spine, forming goosebumps that were borderline painful. The fact that you were on the ninetieth floor and wearing flimsy pyjama shorts and a thin long-sleeve shirt wasn’t helping either. The crisp wind blew against your body, but you had no intentions of moving to seek warmth. It felt appropriate to stay in the cold when your body would soon know nothing but unwelcome heat.

So lost in your spiralling thoughts, you failed to notice as another body silently took up space beside yours, warming up the side of your arm. This heat was welcome.

“Pretty cold out here.”

A startled gasp escaped your mouth. You straightened up and turned to the owner of the voice, only to find Finnick leaning against the railing, forearms over the edge the same as you.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I know my presence can be a little breathtaking sometimes. Nice shorts by the way.”

He turned his head turned to you, revealing his infamous flirtatious smirk. The dimples in his cheeks were prominent and charming. His bronze hair was perfectly dishevelled as usual, as if someone had purposefully placed each strand to give him the ‘sexy bed hair’ look. He was still wearing his white button-up and black trousers; the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone, revealing his toned chest. The outfit had been accessorised with a metallic golden corset-like belt among other decorations that made him fit in with the Capitol crowd, but he must have taken them off. Now the outfit sort of resembled one that a boy would wear to a Reaping. Simple yet formal. Still gorgeous, not that he needed reminding.

Normally, you would retort with a snarky remark or, on the off occasion, flirt back, but instead, you resumed your previous position over the railings. You weren’t immune to Finnick’s charms; you praised anyone who was. You would usually be internally swooning at the sight of him, especially with the way he looked right now and his obvious flirting. But this night was much different. Flirting and swooning were at the back of your mind. All you could think about was your interaction with the president; the way his guards manhandled and escorted you to his study. The conversation that destroyed your hopes of a peaceful future.

Desirable. One word that sent ice coursing through your veins. Or snow, to be more poetic.

“I don’t think you’ve said a word since we got back,” said Finnick, still a hint of playfulness in his tone. He watched your gaze—eyes distant though not really seeing. It was clear something was wrong, so he continued, this time more softly. “You were gone during the fireworks.”

You remained unmoving, staring straight ahead at the city. Only when he uttered your name did he finally gain your attention. As you turned your head to face him, tears began to well up in your eyes.

Finnick noticed the silent distress in your expression and straightened up his stance. He towered over you, brows knitted together whilst his sea-green eyes flickered across your face, looking as if pieces were slowly falling together in his mind.

“He spoke with you, didn’t he?” he said. “Snow.”

To answer his question for you, a tear escaped your eye, but you were quick to swipe it away with a sniffle.

Your arms wound around your torso, hugging yourself as the words began flowing. “After I won my Games, when I was being crowned, he said something to me that I didn’t really understand." Your voice was gentle, just above a mere whisper. “Months passed and I’d forgotten all about it. Until now at least. He told me…” You swallowed the ache in your throat. “He told me, ‘I have big plans for you, Miss (L/N). I think you will be a very valuable asset to the Capitol citizens.’”

Finnick’s face had melted into an unreadable expression. His entire body turned to stone; it was like he was a marble statue portraying a Greek God. All of a sudden, he was sixteen again. He was in Snow’s study, being told that if he didn’t cooperate and essentially sell himself to the Capitol, his family would pay the price. And they did.

With a sad smile, you whispered, “I know what he meant now.”

Something inside him snapped and he broke from his stupor.

“No.” He vigorously shook his head. “He can’t do that. You can’t. I’ll go to him and—fuck!” His hand ran through his hair, making it even more dishevelled. The bright lights from the city were reflecting off his eyes, revealing the shine that was starting to gloss over them. “I can fix this for you, I swear I’ll—"

“Finnick.”

“He’s a fucking—”

“Finnick.” The plea in your voice ceased his panicked movements. He just stood there, looking completely and utterly helpless. You both did. Another tear slipped down your cheek as you stared at him, your voice wavering as you asked, “Can you hold me?”

He let out a breath as if the air had been knocked from his lungs and in one fell swoop, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms. Silent tears began to flow more heavily, saturating his white shirt which he held you tightly against. There was a hand wrapped protectively around your lower back and another stroking the hair flowing over your neck.

You were certain Finnick let a few tears slip too because you could feel the cold breeze nip at the top of your head the slightest bit more. He mumbled the words “I’m so sorry” over and over into your hair but you just shook your head. You told him it wasn’t his fault, but he wouldn’t accept it. He had told you months ago about his arrangement with Snow. You couldn’t have imagined what it was like for him then, but you would be able to now. You would know every single little detail.

His embrace tightened as you turned your head and pressed your ear to his thumping chest.

The tears had stopped, and you managed to find your voice again. “Snow threatened to kill my family. What if the customers don’t think I’m good enough and he takes it out on them? I mean, I don’t have any experience.”

You remained silent, awaiting his response. When the hand stroking your hair halted, you realised your mistake. You realised what you had just admitted to him and mentally kicked yourself. Repeatedly.

Finnick moved both hands onto your forearms, gently pushing you away from him to get a clear view of your face. The surprise in his expression was enough to make you want to jump over the balcony ledge in embarrassment.

“You’re a virgin?”

Hearing the words out loud would have sent you over the edge—literally—if Finnick’s large hands weren’t wrapped around your arms. You tried to turn away from him, but his grip was unshakeable. Your eyes began to water again, and you felt pathetic.

“Hey,” he said tenderly as he tried to regain your eye contact. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Your distraught red-rimmed eyes snapped back to him. “Not a bad thing? Of course it’s a bad thing, Finnick! I have to give my body to a stranger despite never even having my first kiss! Let alone sex!” As you said the words, the full reality of your situation began to set in. Panic turned to sadness as you realised yet again, the Capitol was taking another innocence you thought was your own to give away. You looked down, your tone becoming quieter. “I thought my first time would be special. Or at least with someone I loved.”

God, you felt so embarrassed admitting that to him. Sure, a lot of your conversations were flirty and full of sensual banter. Sex, however, was not a topic that came up very frequently. You would never want to accidentally cross a line with Finnick, especially given what Snow forced upon him. So you liked to avoid the subject as much as possible. Now, it was inescapable.

He released his grip and sighed heavily, looking out toward the view as if he were deep in thought. The vivid city lights cast an unnatural hue on his usually golden-tanned skin; even now the Capitol was changing him into something he wasn’t. His eyes shut for a quick second before he reopened them and looked back at you. The only time he had looked this serious was the morning of your Games and the night you returned. It was a little intimidating.

His jaw ticked and his gaze bore down into your own. “Sweetheart, I’m going to ask you something,” he began, “and I want you to know you do not have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to, okay?”

Alright, now he was really starting to scare you.

“Okay,” you said warily.

The hardness on his face remained for a moment longer, but then his expression softened and became the most vulnerable you had ever seen.

His voice was gentle. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

*************

You were sat on the edge of Finnick’s bed, toying with the black satin sheets with a frown. Your room didn’t get satin sheets. It was probably one of the benefits of being the Capitol Darling. Not that you envied him very much. He would probably be content with sleeping on a dirt floor if it meant he got his autonomy back.

Finnick was in the bathroom doing God knows what. You weren’t sure if he was trying to make himself more presentable or hyping himself up to have sex with you. The latter worried you. The last thing you wanted was to pressure him into something he didn’t want to do. Then again, he was the one who asked.

After you had told him “Yes, please”, he had tentatively but oh-so-gently taken your hand in his and guided you inside and to his room. Neither of you had spoken along the way; you just walked in silence toward something that would either ruin or deepen your relationship. Despite being two victors, this was still a mentor making sure his tribute stayed alive.

You heard the bathroom door slide open and looked up to see Finnick standing outside the door. Shirtless, pants still on, and towel in hand. It took everything in you to not stare at his perfectly sculptured torso, his equally toned arms, or his broad and muscular shoulders. Instead, your eyes met his for a split second before you returned to the satin sheets.

Blood rushed to your head and everything felt too real. Finnick Odair was standing before you, looking like an angel and willing to fu—

“You’re allowed to look, you know,” he chuckled.

But your gaze remained on the bed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You won’t.’” He spread the towel on the bed, positioning it in the middle. Then he stopped his movements as he realised what you meant. “It’s not like that. I’m not being forced to do this. I want to.”

Your head snapped up and your heart leapt as those three words left his lips—I want to. For a second, you believed him, but then reasoning came to deflate your hopefulness.

“You wouldn’t want to if I weren’t in this situation.”

He let go of the towel, sitting down mere inches beside you, his eyes amused despite the solemn context. “And how do you know that?”

“Because…” you trailed off, searching your brain for an explanation only to find none. “Because.”

He smirked. “We need to work on your argumentative skills, sweetheart.”

A small smile worked its way across your lips. He returned it with a comforting smile of his own, though the sense of playfulness never left. It never really did and that was one of the things you admired most about him. Even in the darkest of situations, he was able to provide some light.

Rosy heat crept into your cheeks and you were forced to break eye contact again. Hiding how much he affected you was pointless now; if this was going to work out, you needed to be vulnerable with him. With each other. You looked down at the space between your bodies. His hand was resting on the bed beside him and soon enough, it was slowly creeping across the sheets over to your own. He gently brushed his fingers across your knuckles before sliding his hand beneath your palm and interlocking it with yours. You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his, feeling butterflies flutter around your stomach at the small observation.

The both of you silently watched your intertwined hands. That is until Finnick decided to speak up.

“I would,” he said ambiguously, caressing the side of your hand with his thumb. “I would still want to. Even in different circumstances.”

The blush on your face reddened even more; your cheeks were on fire at this point. Even in different circumstances. Was that his way of confessing… that he did have feelings for you? It wasn’t exactly explicit, but it was certainly implied. Oh god, you didn’t know what to think.

You didn’t bother to reply; words probably would have failed you anyway. You just gave his hand a slight squeeze in acknowledgement—well, it was more in appreciation. It was obvious how hard he was trying to make you feel comfortable, but no matter how hard he tried, you couldn’t shake the nerves that were rattling your entire being.

Sex was a pretty big milestone—to you, at least—and here you were, on the precipice with someone you trusted with your life. Did you love Finnick? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that your feelings for him were deep, and even though neither of you had ever clearly confessed to each other, you knew he felt something for you too. Which made everything all the more daunting.

“Are you nervous?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“We still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head, lifting your gaze to his. “No, I—”

His eyebrows pulled inwards, awaiting your answer. His eyes were so inviting and full of understanding, if you hadn’t lost the ability to form full sentences, you would have found yourself spilling all your secrets to him. He was so patient with you. So good. You had to rethink your uncertainty about loving him.

“I…” you tried again. Your eyes flickered back and forth from his sea-green eyes to his soft, pink lips. As shameful as it felt to admit, you had imagined what it would feel like to have his lips on yours many times before. Usually right before you went to sleep. Never would you have thought the day would come when it would actually happen.

He was still caressing the side of your palm, silently reassuring you, encouraging you to communicate with him. You sighed, closing your eyes. If he wanted you to communicate, then you would.

“Finnick,” you whispered. “Kiss me.”

Your words drifted into the air, stilling everything in the room—the air, Finnick’s hand. Your heart. He just stared at you, unblinking, unmoving, like someone had hit pause on the television at the tensest moment. The tension was tearing you apart and you almost got up and left the room. But you didn’t. Because suddenly, the sides of your face were cupped by large hands and his lips were on yours.

Finnick Odair was kissing you.

His lips pressed against yours once more in one long close-mouthed kiss before leaving again. Shock came and left within seconds and you found the courage to copy his actions. Your lips locked perfectly onto his, remaining still, enjoying the pressure and tingly warmth of simply having them connected. Then your lips moved to kiss him again. And again, and again until soon enough, his tongue had slyly slid into your mouth and you had somehow instantaneously become a master at French kissing.

This kiss felt familiar, despite it being your first. Like something you had done millions of times before, but only with him. Like having his lips on yours was the most natural thing to ever exist.

A hand moved onto your waist and suddenly you were being pulled onto his lap, legs straddling his lap. Your hands fell on his chest, mindlessly wandering and feeling the toned muscles ripple underneath your palms as he pulled you closer by the neck to deepen the kiss. Damn the people of the Capitol, but they were right to say he was an incredible kisser.

“Finn,” you huffed in between kisses, “have you got a rock in your pants?”

He pecked your lips once more with a smirk, resting his forehead against yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths. “No,” he chuckled. “I’ve just got a beautiful girl on my lap.”

Your eyes opened to see him grinning at you with mischief. Oh.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

You nodded jerkily. “Ye—Yes, that’s okay.”

“Okay, good.”

Biting your lip, you looked down between your bodies. Curiously, you rocked your hips along the length of his lap once, earning a quiet grunt from him.

He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Careful,” his voice was low, tempting.

And of course, in full defiance, you did it again. His warning was a bluff. He made no real action to prevent you from grinding any further on his erection, so you kept moving, and he kept revealing how good it made him feel. The thin fabric of your shorts created a little barrier between his hard lap and the growing sensitivity between your thighs.

Meanwhile, you found yourself never wanting to be parted from Finnick’s lips. With every rock of your hips, your hands ran over every inch of his upper body, eventually settling in his hair. The way he kissed reminded you of stories of District Twelve. A district full of hunger and desperation. Only what Finnick was craving wasn’t the fullness of food in his stomach, but the desire to devour you whole. To ravage you. And by God, would you give anything to satiate him.

Forget what you thought before. This wasn’t just a victor keeping his tribute alive. As clear as the sea on a sunny day, this was a man giving himself over to a woman he loved. You. Finnick loved you.

When you pulled back to tentatively lift your shirt over your head, his eyes stayed on yours. Your breasts were literally bare and he just continued to scan the features of your face. However, you did notice the subtle shift in his breathing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, stroking the side of your breast.

A shy, cheek-warming smile crept on your face and then suddenly, Finnick was rolling you over. Your head fell back onto the soft silk pillows, Finnick hovering above you. This position remained for a long while, the time spent simply kissing each other, alternating between deep tongue-filled kisses and soft sweet pecks. There were moments when you both stopped to flirt or giggle. These were the times you entirely forgot the whole reason you were doing this in the first place.

It was just you and Finnick. Two new lovers in a perfect world.

After a while, your lips had swollen with warm, passionate heat. You were flushed and you didn’t even need to look to know your hair was already a tangled mess. But you didn’t care.

One of Finnick’s hands had begun to wander down your stomach, breaking the established pattern of merely making out. You knew what was coming and surprisingly, you weren’t afraid. Unlike outside the penthouse apartment, there was no danger. Not in this room, in this bed, or in the hands that caressed you. He grazed across the skin beneath your belly button, causing your body to flinch up into his.

Of course, he smirked at that—the smug asshole.

He returned to your lips before lowering down to your neck and sucking soft, red marks into your fragile skin. His fingers found the edge of your waistband. At this point, you were already breathing like a marathoner.

His lips detached from your neck. “Can Itouch you?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed.

As he travelled down, down beneath your waistband, he pecked your reddened lips once more. A soft gasp escaped you and warmth tingled between your thighs. His fingers were gentle as he began circling that sweet, sensitive spot only you had ever touched. Having someone else touch you felt so much more different, so much more exquisite. Your body responded to his touch immediately, hips following each movement of his fingers, breaths quickening in pace.

Finnick gazed down at you, observing each pleasured twist of your expression. He began to pick up the pace as he noticed your body familiarising itself with the sensation. More pressure was applied and the gasps leaving your mouth were gradually turning into quiet moans.

“This feel okay?” he asked. Obviously, he knew the answer, but after years of having others take advantage of him, he couldn’t help but want to hear your willingness. Your consent.

But you weren’t sure if the words could form. Everything felt like it was vibrating. All you could do was focus on the pleasure his fingers were building.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

His voice had taken on that seductive purr he was well-known for and you just couldn’t deny him. It took everything inside you to muster up the words. “It—it feels so good.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The gesture was so sweet, you could have cried. So sweet even with his hand stroking between your legs and his hard cock pressing against your thigh. Time slowed as his fingers sped up. Muscles in your stomach were tightening. Your insides were churning—not like when you first entered your Games’ arena, but in the best way possible. It was a sensation you had never felt before, but before it could build any more, Finnick’s hand stilled. And you genuinely whined at the loss of friction.

Then his hand moved even lower, resting a singular finger over your slick entrance. Your eyes were wide, unsure of how to feel with the sudden turn of events.

Finnick’s eyes flickered between your own. "You trust me?”

You weren’t sure if an easier question existed. “I do.”

And his lips were on yours again, deep and sensual. His tongue rolled over your own, pushing forward and then retreating in a perfect rhythm. He almost successfully distracted you from the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you knuckle-by-knuckle. Some sort of sound resembling a mix of discomfort and surprise vibrated in your throat as his finger bottomed out.

There wasn’t much pain. It was just an odd feeling.

Your lips parted from his and he looked down at you, his eyes holding an immense amount of security as he communicated through your shared gaze.

Does it hurt?

You gave him a gentle smile. No. Keep touching me.

He returned your smile with a grin. Gladly.

His buried finger curled, shooting a sharp pang up into your stomach which caused your back to arch up against his bare torso. Whether you considered it painful or pleasurable was uncertain. Perhaps a mix of both. He did it again. This time you settled on describing it as a tight twinge in your lower stomach which sent a wave of chills down your legs. Definitely pleasurable. Only, he stopped indulging you with the sensation after the second time.

Instead, you felt another finger slowly slip inside you and whimpered. Now that hurt. You felt your inner walls stretch with the second addition and it stung. Especially when he began to scissor his fingers inside you. This was him preparing you for the real deal. How you were supposed to have Finnick inside you when just his fingers had you stuffed was incomprehensible. But you allowed him to keep going, trying to enjoy the comforting kisses he pampered onto you.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he said.

Your hands moved to push back his messy bronze hair as he hovered above you. His dimples deepened with a grin and you swore you would endure any pain to keep them etched on his face. After he deemed you stretched out enough, he slowly rose to his knees, unbuttoning his trousers and throwing them aside. You couldn’t do anything but stare. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

The way you gulped was almost cartoonish. How the hell was he supposed to fit? You had never seen a man naked before—you weren’t even sure Finnick was human. He had a body sculptured by the Gods, a face carved by angels, and a… well, let’s just say he didn’t disappoint in any other areas. You weren’t sure if the smug look on his face was real or a carefully curated mask created for his Capitol customers. By the way it quickly washed away, you could tell it was the latter.

He began sliding your shorts down your legs, tossing them to the floor. Suddenly, you felt extremely vulnerable. Almost inferior. Your knees fell together, concealing the most private part of yourself from him. You avoided his gaze, cheeks becoming red and hot as he observed your naked frame. He had a way of looking at you as if you were a long-forgotten masterpiece, rediscovered from centuries of being lost. No one had looked at you like that before him.

Gently, he pried apart your legs and you didn’t bother trying to resist. Only when he descended and settled between your legs did the insecurity dwindle into the background of your mind. Your naked bodies were hot against each other. His weight pinned you against the bed. Everything that was yours touched all that was his. You thought this experience would feel like a dream, but it all felt so real. You were nervous, you were trembling, and your breaths were shaky.

Finnick was quick to recognise the nervousness radiating off you. His arm curled beneath you, somehow pulling you even closer, meanwhile, his other arm rested beside your head. He brushed strands of hair away from your face, soothing you with his tender touch.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

You nodded. You wanted this—wanted Finnick. It was just the anticipation that was killing you. Your thighs squeezed his sides to tell him you were ready. For a few moments longer, he restarted the pattern of sweet kisses, rolling tongues, and the warmth of blood rushing to your head. His hand was caressing your cheek; yours were splayed on his back, gliding over the rippled muscles.

Then finally, he shifted, his hand moving south to align himself with your entrance. All you could do was watch his focused expression. This was the moment. The threshold of your relationship would be ­­crossed as soon as he pushed forward. There was no one else you wanted to share the experience with because you knew this wasn’t just sex. Not for him or for you; it was more than that. Something bordering spiritual, breaking the bounds of physical pleasure and entering into a deep emotional connection. Something no paying customer of the Capitol could provide.

He was gazing down at you, half-cradling your head as he began to say, “Are you su—" But before he could finish, you had pressed your lips to his, answering his question. You were sure. He nodded in response.

His eyes were hesitant he began to push his tip between your folds. Your fingers dug into his back, more from anxiety than anything else. It became a game of stopping and starting as he moved deeper inside inch-by-inch, allowing your walls time to adjust around him. Never had you seen someone’s face filled with so many emotions—concentration, controlled gratification, affection. So many feelings twisted his expression. Meanwhile, yours held only one. Discomfort. He was so big; you felt like you were being split apart and he wasn’t even fully inside yet.

Finally, when his pelvis connected with yours, you exhaled a heavy breath. It hurt. Bad. Finnick had the right idea to lay down a towel because you definitely needed it. He had you filled to the brim, stretched out and stuffed. Even the slightest shift in his position had your hands flying to his shoulders in pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, just—” You bit your lip in an attempt to suppress a whimper. “Just go slow.”

He nodded. You smiled. Then for some odd reason, you laughed. And then so did he. Finnick’s face fell into the crook of your neck, muffling his boyish laughs into your skin. The added movements had your insides dully aching, but you didn’t pay it much attention. The moment was so innocently intimate that you wanted to stay in it forever. He lifted his head to press his grinning lips to yours and the laughter began to dissipate. Your mouths moved slowly together, full of heat and fervent emotion, and suddenly, Finnick’s body began to move too.

Careful as not to harm you, he slid himself backward in one slow motion and then pushed forward again in another. Pain stung at your inner walls and your lips left his as a gasp escaped your mouth. You were tempted to close your eyes whilst riding out the discomfort but couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Finnick’s face. He was so mesmerizingly beautiful.

His cheeks were a baby pink. Lips were a rosy red. There was a thin sheen covering his forehead, slightly wrinkled by his furrowed brows. Those messy bronze locks you adored so much fell in strands across his forehead. The evident concentration and care on his face just made him look all the more picturesque.

While you admired his features, you started to notice the pain accompanying his slow thrusts was becoming more tolerable. There was still a sting, but also a dull twinge in your stomach that had you biting your bottom lip. It felt sort of… nice. And you wanted to experiment with that feeling.

Your hands were hooked around his shoulders. “Faster.”

Are you sure? His lustful eyes spoke.

You pulled him back down to your mouth. Absolutely.

And so, his hips started to rock back and forth at a faster pace. You could feel yourself clench around his cock from the change of rhythm but forced yourself to relax. He thrust in and out, rubbing against the ripples of your walls, tip brushing at a spot inside you that was anything but pain. That is what you focused on—that one sweet spot.

Time went on and he gradually increased his speed. Your lips were swollen and red, no doubt from the way he would nip and suck on your bottom lip in between each flick of his tongue. His breaths were coming out louder, heavier, as were your own. Soon enough, you were in a rhythm that was both pleasurable for him and for you. The pain lingered but it was no longer unbearable. A shudder ran down your body and your pussy fluttered around him. Finnick broke away from your lips with a breathy groan that you swore you could feel in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

His thrusts became a little faster, a little more painful. A hand slipped down between your bodies and the pain faded quicker than it came. He was rubbing circles around your clit, occasionally running his fingers across it which caused you to lurch upward. All of a sudden, you came to the realisation that everything bad that had been clouding your mind had disappeared. The ache, the confrontation with Snow. Everything. The only thing you could focus on was the pleasure slowly building between your thighs and in your stomach. And Finnick. His tantalising eyes. His wicked mouth. His throbbing cock.

People always said your first time would be horrible; this was anything but. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you… loved him? Yeah, you loved him. Also because he was something of an expert at sex. You were in a pretty unlucky predicament but having Finnick willingly fucking you was a blessing.

His fingers were relentless, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that had you writhing beneath him. And added with the sensation of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you, your uneven breaths turned into soft moans. He fucked, he rubbed, he nipped and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. Heat was enveloping your entire body.

“Finnick,” you moaned.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His voice was strained and hoarse.

His hand left your clit, hooking around your thigh, and curling it around his back so he could thrust even deeper. He restarted his rhythm of rubbing circles, but his thrusts felt different. Instead of just brushing that sensitiveness deep inside you, he was mercilessly hitting it. Over and over. Your moans were louder now; Finnick was more vocal too, grunting and occasionally uttering words of praise.

This went on for a while. His stamina was incredible—if you had a moment to think, you would have realised the depressing reasoning behind it. But you couldn’t think at all. Your heel was digging into his back; nails scratching at his skin. Both of you had a layer of sweat covering your bodies, skin wet, slapping and sliding over one another. Your pheromones had filled the room with the smell of sex, driving your need to finish.

Finnick’s mouth had been everywhere at this point. Your lips, your neck, shoulders, and breasts. Everywhere except your pussy, not that it really mattered anymore.

It was hard for you to comprehend how fucking amazing the sensations you felt were. There was heat and pressure pooling in your stomach, increasing at a slow pace, and growing more powerful by the minute. Finnick’s hips moved at a steady pace, but his hand had begun to slow. Even he had to succumb to fatigue at some point. He sounded like he had run for miles though was obviously pushing himself on for your benefit.

Instead of ceasing his tiring hand movements entirely, he switched hands. And that was when the heat in your stomach turned into a blazing inferno. He was much faster now. Applied more pressure. Your head fell back against the pillow with a cry. His cock was throbbing inside you at the sound.

“That feel good? Huh?” he practically moaned.

He left kisses across the stretch of your neck, running his tongue over the skin and leaving behind red marks.

“Yes!” you cried out.

Your entire body felt like it was being dipped into a white-hot flame of pleasure and the feeling was only increasing. It was clear Finnick felt the same way. His thrusts were becoming more frantic, he was cursing left and right, and he was practically pulsing inside you.

The heat in your stomach was overwhelming but you needed more.

“Finnick, I feel—I feel—” You couldn’t even describe it.

Finnick nodded, breathing heavily above you. God, he looked gorgeous. “You’re gonna come.”

Your half-lidded needy eyes met his. Something about him saying those words sent a wave of acceleration through your body. You hadn’t known what the edge was until you were on the brink of coming, and there was no stopping it. His cock plunged in and out, pushing deep inside you, practically rocketing your orgasm to the surface with each thrust. His fingers moved at such an intense pace you didn’t even know was physically possible.

As your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth fell open and every frantic breath, moan, and cry was able to escape. Finnick had the same problem. Fuck, he sounded so sexy, it only spurred you on.

Then it hit you all at once. “Fu—"

Every inch of your body tensed. You were sent into a space where white noise filled your hearing and bliss was all you knew. No pain. No sadness. Just ecstasy. Electric sparks jolted up and down your body, rising to your head, and causing you to see stars behind your closed eyes. Your moans were uncontrollable and desperate, voicing Finnick’s name over and over.

His thrusts were frenzied and sloppy, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could. He had lifted your lower back into an arch, enhancing the sensation coursing through your body. Your walls were clenching and pulsing around him, so much that he was abruptly thrown into his own high. His hips stuttered and eventually, his cock filled you as deep as he could, spurting out warm strings of white that coated your inner walls.

He collapsed on top of you, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your fingers wound into his hair, clinging to him as the aftershocks of your orgasm ravaged your body. Legs trembling and mouth panting, you lay there allowing yourself to regain your breath and ability to move.

After pressing a lazy kiss to your neck, Finnick slid off you, falling onto the bed beside you. Hopefully the towel was enough to save the silk sheets.

Now that you were resting, exhaustion had the chance to cloud your mind. You weren’t sure what the customs were after sex—whether you made conversation or simply went to sleep. The latter sounded pretty good though. A warm hand slipped beneath your back, turning your body sideways and pulling you so you were half strewn across Finnick’s chest and legs. You made no effort to resist.

Eyes closed, you listened to the heart beating inside his ribs. Thrumming intensely though starting to return to a normal rate.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a murmur, sounding utterly drained.

His thumb drew gentle patterns on the skin of your waist.

You nodded against his chest, remaining silent. After a little while you finally decided to speak. “I’m glad it was you.” And then after a few more moments of silence, you added, “I wish it was just you.”

You felt him press his lips to the top of your head. A long and emotional kiss. The whole reasoning behind losing your virginity returned to mind. It felt heavy, weighing down the atmosphere in the room. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, what was coming was inevitable. You wouldn’t get to stay with Finnick in this bed. You wouldn’t get to belong to him, or he you. You both belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. No matter how much you wished to belong to each other.

He whispered, “Me too.”

[mdhwrites]

Do you think the show rewards Luz’s Selfishness too much?

So I normally frame Luz's decision to self martyr herself and stay in her own world as not wanting to bother with the effort to fix her mistake. Let's shift that a bit so we can talk about why the show couldn't have Luz tell ANYONE this deeply selfish choice. A choice that by all means, Camila seems to think is just a bad choice for Luz and for no one else.

But... Luz chooses that her pain and angst is so bad that she doesn't want to help Amity reunite with her siblings. Or to make sure they can live in a world where they're safe. Gus' dad, Willow's parents, Darius, etc. All of them can rot as far as Luz is concerned. She even explicitly states this in For the Future. "Once Eda and King are safe, I'm going home."

No one else matters. LITERALLY no one else matters to her but the people she has chosen to care about and there aren't many of those. This is framed even worse by the fact that by the end of this episode, Camila will effectively say that Luz has NEVER done anything wrong. That trying to critique her at all, to try and give her life skills and friends with the camp after she put people's lives potentially in danger (snakes and fireworks are not meant for school for a reason), was wrong. That Luz just needs to be 'understood'. Part of understanding Luz, especially in S3, means that unless someone attacks her about it, like the dream sequence, WHICH ISN'T HER OWN MIND BUT A FABRICATION AND LIE, she isn't going to think about others. Just her adopted family and herself. And even then, maybe not even her adopted family since they sure as shit didn't matter in Thanks to Them.

BUT. we are supposed to sympathize with her and believe she did nothing wrong, just like Camila. Do not question her motivations, or her efforts, just believe her words.

This is emblematic of the show as well. The first two episodes talk a big game about fantasy vs reality and like Luz's selfish motivations, warped way of looking at things and her learning to be a human being, not a walking, wanna be protagonist will be interrogated. But... Not really. She repeatedly does things that are mirrored in her favorite series. Her final battle line will be a reference to that series and her delusions with that series. People might get briefly upset about her actions but most of the time she either doesn't have to do anything, like Reaching Out or Adventure in the Elements (where she gets a glyph BEFORE making up the fuck up she did) or show how special she is like in Lost in Language and Covention. I can only really think of like one episode after the first two where Luz fucks up and genuinely has to take the brunt of punishment for it, Winging it Like Witches, and even in that one, she is saved before anything bad happens to her before winning with the same trick that hurt her friends, just... Now it's okay because they're all on the same page about it I guess. Couldn't have had Willow come up with something herself because Luz actually was willing to listen to Willow and not force something onto her. That'd be too much work.

It's part of why the more you interrogate Luz's intentions and motivations, it gets BAD. So much of what she does could be easily grafted onto a kid trying to play hero or not learning anything from past mistakes. Don't ever forget that Teenage Abomination says "Listen to your mentor about their specialty," then The Intruder says "Don't take shortcuts to magic" before then in Adventure in the Elements, Luz takes a shortcut for magic while also not listening to Eda and almost gets people killed for it. GREAT JOB LUZ! Much development, such depth.

And yes, lots of shows will have characters yoyo and the like but these are within HALF A SEASON of each other. It usually takes a little longer for most animated shows to straight up start repeating lessons. Hell, yes, it is theoretically a problem for Amphibia too with stuff like Bessie and the hibernation episode both featuring Anne's impatience but also S1 is genuinely about how Anne is fighting between the lessons she's learning and her growing empathy versus how she used to be with her selfishness and laziness. Also, both episodes might be about her impatience but they genuinely tackle it in different ways, with one being about disregarding the rules because of overconfidence and the other one is out of boredom. For TOH... It's just that Luz wants the magic she thinks she should have, as easily and as fun as she thinks it should be instead of weird and actually taking work, and fucks it up because of that same motivation.

That same motivation that doesn't treat reality like reality. According to the show though, that's just the best way to be. Follow your own version, fuck everything else. That's what Luz gets to do in the end after all and she's the one literally blessed by God to be correct.

So yeah, I think her selfishness might be a touch rewarded.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[k-vanity]

Wanderlust Festival: A K-Vanity Event

Welcome to the Wanderlust Festival, the biggest autumn carnival of the year. We have many attractions that'll give you a sense of adventure and foods that will take you out of this world! Pick up your map and get to exploring this limited time experience!

(thank you to @papermatisse for making the map) In this event, you will either write a fic or create a visual based off of the prompts we have listed below. Writers You will pick a ride (or more than one if you choose) based off of the genres and tropes listed below. It must be included in your work.

genres/rides

fluff: merry-go-round, (swan) pedal boats

angst: hot air balloon ride, carousel waltzer

smut: ferris wheel, log ride

comedy: tilt-a-whirl, fun slide

horror: boat ride, sling shot

slice of life: mirror maze

thriller: hay ride, haunted house

Fantasy: tea cups, swing ride

sci-fi: pirate swing, bumper cars

tropes/events:

petting zoo: established relationship, protagonist is a suspect 

apple bobbing: strangers to lovers, body switching 

concerts: friends with benefits, discovering special powers 

fireworks: forbidden love, dual timeline

pumpkin patch: friends to lovers, set in a small town

face painting: fake relationship, dark family secret

vendor activities : incapable of love, cursed items

bean sack race: soulmate, the double-cross

hot dog contest: enemies to lovers, unlikely allies 

tug-a-war: exes to lovers, the power of teamwork

water shows: best friend’s brother/sister, childhood memories

dunk tank: love triangle, unreliable narrator

parade: royalty, heir to the throne

Visual Artists You will create a edit (gif, moodboard, gfx, fanart, etc) based off of the prompts listed below. You can choose more than one if you like but it must be included in your work. You also have the choice to gif any kpop content that is carnival related.

cotton candy: fairycore

lemonade: vsco

fried pickles: country

chocolate covered bananas: baddie

deep fried oreos: soft

elephant ears: cottagecore

pretzels: light academia

witches' brew: dark academia

caramel/candy apples: pastel goth

kettle corn: cozy sweater

cidar drink: witchcore

corn dogs: artist

funnel cakes: old money

slushies: kawaii

meat: goblincore

loaded fries: grunge

nachos: ePerson

churros : ethereal

pizza: Y2K

hot dogs: indie

ice cream: vintage

Rules:

You must be a member of the network to participate.

For writers, the content must be at least 500 words.

For visual artists, the prompt must be included in your work (where it's in the caption or in the gif/gfx/edit itself).

No sign ups. Just use the tag #kwanderlust along with the net tag #kvanity when posting your work.

Regular rules and regulations from the net apply to this event.

Event Timeline:

Posting Period: Sept 23rd-Nov 18th

Masterlist will be posted Nov 25th

If you have any questions please reach out to the K-Vanity team!

[caffernnn]

Haru is not the best at putting his feelings into words. If he knows anything about himself, it’s this. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel things strongly, deeply, and sometimes achingly so. After pushing away everyone and almost losing himself by trying to run away from his complicated emotions, he wants to learn to be more open about what’s going on in his head. He starts by trying something a little more... unorthodox, but he’s willing to do it to be closer with the person who has never taken his emotions or vulnerability for granted.

After their small graduation party has ended and everyone else has gone home, Haru and Makoto are cleaning up Haru’s house (he always gets roped into hosting somehow) while Makoto goes on about how nice it was to have everyone over to celebrate. Always observant, Makoto notices how Haru’s usual monosyllabic hums between Makoto’s comments are laced with nervousness. He simply watches Haru deftly move around the room with a distant look on his face before he decides to ask, “is something on your mind, Haru-chan?”

Haru stops and stares up at Makoto’s patient smile for a silent minute before walking towards his bedroom. “Sit down. I have something to give you.”

Makoto watches Haru go, surprised and a little confused, but sits down anyways. “What’s this for? You didn’t have to get me anything.” The rest of his ramblings about how hosting their graduation party was enough of a gift already die in his throat when Haru returns, holding a thin sketchbook to his chest with a palpable fear he can’t quite conceal etched into his features. “... Haru?”

Haru sits down next to Makoto and takes a deep breath to ground himself before speaking. He idly picks at the twine wrapped around the sketchbook and looks down at his lap to keep his nerve while trying to explain himself. “Makoto...” After a few more deep breaths, he starts again.

“Makoto, I’m not great at saying everything that’s on my mind. I never felt like it was all that bothersome around you, because you could figure out the important things most of the time.” In lieu of making a comment and accidentally getting in the way of Haru’s train of thought, Makoto put a gentle hand on Haru’s knee to try and soothe its incessant bouncing.

“But it is bothersome. It is, because you deserve words. You, of all people, deserve my honesty, even if it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Does that make sense? Am I making any sense?” Before Makoto can think to comment, Haru places the sketchbook in Makoto’s lap and trudges on.

“There are so many things I wish I could’ve told you sooner, but maybe this can be a start.”

Haru finally looks up to see Makoto look over the sketchbook’s cover in awe before meeting his gaze with an unspoken gratitude and warmth that absolutely burns him. Overwhelmed, Haru wheezes out a comment about heading to the bath before quickly making his way out of the room. Makoto gives an exasperated laugh at the whole situation and takes to opening up the sketchbook.

“To Makoto - for every missed apology, compliment, and everything else in between. I appreciate you being there for me. — Haru”

Inside the sketchbook are collages of collective sketches, small notes, and pages cut and ripped out of old books and magazines. Makoto can’t help but be amazed by the amount of thought and care behind each page, even if at first glance some pages look like they’re just random scraps of paper and doodles to the untrained eye. Makoto knows they’re more than that, because he’s holding a tangible copy of Haru’s mind, filled with the stories he’s tried to read for years through his best friend’s pensive silences and ocean eyes.

By the time a still-flustered Haru stops hiding in the bath and goes to rejoin Makoto in the living room, Makoto has tentatively ran his fingers over too many poetry lines highlighted and ripped out of Haru’s grandmother’s old books as well as detailed sketches of his own smile to do anything other than hug Haru fiercely and whisper countless tearful “thank you’s” into the crook of his neck.

[asgardwinter]

A Promise Sealed With Light

summary | It was news to him, having someone around that came up with such things as plans for the future.

pairing | Loki x Reader

warnings | fluff, a sprinkle of angst because Loki is a bit insecure about it all, immortal!reader because it would be too sad

word count | 865

author’s note | the last fic of the year! weird to think i wasn't here last year writing like this... but anyways, I wish a great 2022 to whoever read this (and who doesn’t too, we all deserve a good year after all) and I hope things get better for you if they aren’t and if they are good I hope they stay this way 💕

ps: I just needed to use another gif from the firework scene…

➳ sorry about this morning to everyone that got the notification and started reading, I posted it on accident and it wasn't ready 🥲

Loki Laufeyson Masterlist | Taglist | The Holiday Collection 🎄

With ten minutes to the new year you couldn’t find Loki anywhere.

You’d say the party had been okay, if you account for Tony's excitement for New Year since the Christmas party was banned nothing incredibly crazy had happened. Loki was by your side the whole night and you talked to him most of the time, the place by the bar on the hidden corner perfect for judging people’s clothes choice and drinking a bit more than you would on a normal occasion.

But maybe it wasn’t so right if Loki decided to vanish from there. You were on your second time looking at a dark corridor from the tower when you finally saw the long raven hair you could recognize anywhere.

“Where were you? I looked for you everywhere!” You said coming closer to where he sat on the floor. “Is everything okay?”

He shifted his gaze from the wall to acknowledge your presence. “More than fine, it was a lovely night.” Loki said and it intrigued you even more.

“So may I ask you why you decided to cut it short?” You sat by his side, head leaning on his shoulder to try and show you were there for him, that he could talk to you about whatever was going on up in his head. “The night is not over yet.”

He confessed the problem after some time. "It is overwhelming."

“What is overwhelming?”

“All those people couldn’t stop talking about the future for one moment, thinking about it all the time.” Loki tried to explain himself. “I don’t like to think about my future.”

“I never enjoyed it either. When you live as much as we do, these kinds of plans become meaningless.” You agreed, almost sure that Loki once said something very similar to you as you walked around the library. “But you changed it for me.”

It was all you needed to make him shift by your side and you were sure he was looking at you confused. “Care to elaborate?”

“Do I need to?” The huff that came out of his mouth was everything you needed to know, it made you let a small giggle just before continuing. “I love you. I see you in my future. I love thinking about my future if you’re going to be there.”

Such a simple logic that almost made his heart explode because you could see him in your future, you didn’t plan to leave anytime soon. That almost made his fears of you waking up and seeing the truth in him go away. Almost.

Because how could he trust that, out of nowhere, he deserved such happiness?

Shouting could be heard from the hall where the party took place. The countdown had started.

Ten… Nine… Eight… Seven… Six… Five… Four… Three… Two… One…

Happy New Year!

Fireworks lighted the sky, anyone would know by the stroundous sound even if you were too far from a window to see. With that chaos far away you stayed there, in silence and trying to see the best way to make the god of lies believe your words.

“I don’t know how to make you believe me, Loki.” You started, turning to look into his eyes. “So I’ll do this.”

The last thing he expected after those words was a kiss.

It was more of a peck on his lips, the moment he went to turn that into a real kiss you pulled away. If he had success all the words would disappear from your head and you needed to continue.

“I’m here kissing you on the New Year because I want to be with you this year. All of it.” You said it in such a soft but serious tone. It was a promise. “And since you don’t buy my really long term plans that involve what mortals would call eternity, I’m going to do the same next year to spend it with you. And the other one. And one more. I’ll do it until you get tired of me because I won’t get tired of you. I love you and that’s final for me.”

Getting Loki to the point he couldn’t talk, just keep looking at you, was something rare but in that moment you were afraid of his next actions. What if all the doubts were still unmoved? What if you couldn’t reassure him, not even a little? All of your uncertainties went away when he kissed you, mirroring your actions and pulling away just seconds after.

“I’ll remember this promise.” Loki warned.

“As you should.”

Your noses touching made you distracted until he decided to speak again. “You’re missing the fireworks.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, since we’re on the ‘planning our future’ page, may I cross one out of my list?” Loki said and waited until you nodded for him. “I hope you like our personal light show, my love.” He opened the palm of his hand and the prettiest, tiniest and most colorful fireworks you’ve ever seen exploded in front of you.

“Wow.”

“That’s my part of the promise.” He whispered against your ear, making you laugh and snug in the crook of his neck to admire the magical moment.

Taglists

Everything: @writing-for-marvel @ju5tyna20

Loki Laufeyson: @emi11ie @hiddlesinner @i-stand-with-loki @darkacademicfrom2021

[doveypink]

the one i left behind [technoblade imagine]

summary: you recount the moments leading up to your death. genre: angst words: 5.3k warnings: death, (past) abusive relationships, swearing, general violence a/n: i've been working on this one for a long time. i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it!!

[ part two: come and find me ]

Freezing. I was absolutely freezing.

The brisk wind was sharp, leaving pinpricks of its icy touch upon my skin. I could have sworn there was snow, but when my eyes finally cracked open to peer around me, there was only the burning blaze of the sun and lush fields surrounding me. I turned my head to the side lazily, feeling the grass tickle my cheek. My body felt stiff and I stretched my arms out as though clasping the sky between my fingers, and my muscles loosened as I lifted myself from the ground. How long had I been laying there? Time seemed to escape me as I tried to recollect myself. I was just tired, that was all; if I went home now, I’m sure I would remember again. I would make myself a big meal, as well, something hot to melt away my chill, even though I didn’t seem to feel any ounce of hunger within me.

I walked in the direction of a place I couldn’t quite remember, attempting to turn the preceding events over in my mind. The only thing I could seem to recall was the smell of something burning, a bright flash of light, a big bang — fireworks, an image of creation and destruction all at once. It was almost as though I had never existed before this moment, lying in a bed of flowers, untouched by the calloused hands of the living.

I walked through the field, reaching out to pick a single flower from the blades of grass—a blood-red carnation—when I noticed that the shade of my skin had lost its warmth. Where it once had the flushed undertone of my blood, it was now ashen with the impression of death. I flinched, suddenly shivering as my cold bones once again made themselves known. A thought occurred to me, a memory that had slipped my mind in my haze: I only had one life left. 

And I lost it.

Without thinking, my feet began to glide over the earth, kicking up dirt and pebbles as I ran. If I had lost my last life, something awful must have happened. What was it? I tried to pull the memories from the vault in my mind, but it seemed to be locked. All that was left were the shadows under the door, the footsteps in the distance, the keyhole that could only provide a glimpse into a scene.

I smelled it, then, the same scent that I recalled upon waking up, though fainter: something hot and burnt. Up ahead, there was a wisp of smoke floating above the trees, and I hurried towards them. The ground became blackened with scorch marks and, among the ruins of a building I could no longer recognize, I caught sight of blood. My heart sank, and with a start, I realized that there was a crater full of rubble and fires that had long been burning. I stepped through the debris, stumbling over broken doors, shards of glass, golden goblets and picture frames; dozens of signs of life all buried in ash and smoke, melted into a haunting image of destruction. Nothing was recognizable, but I knew what this place was: L’Manburg. Or, more accurately, what was left of it.

I searched the ruins of the country, cringing at the blood streaked debris and discarded weapons and armor that lay haphazardly among the wreckage. I circled the edge of the massive crater, unable to step much further into the space due to its depth. I looked down at the scorched land and moved out, surveying the surrounding area. 

Upon noticing the remnants of a building—someone’s house, maybe? It was too far gone to make out—I felt compelled to search what was left of the structure. I wasn’t sure what drew me to suddenly climb through burnt wood and broken cobblestone; some part of me felt as though I would find an answer to all my questions, a sign, anything to point me in the right direction. I felt desperate to find something to satisfy the tug in my cold heart. My freezing hands sifted through the mess, shoving away rubble and pushing through the debris until my hands were covered in dirt and bruised from the digging. My hands suddenly found something smooth and dense, and my searching became frantic as I pushed through the ruins to find what I had been unknowingly searching for: my bow. I tugged it out from under stone and dirt, running my fingers down the edge of the smooth silver. It remained unmarked despite the destruction surrounding it, the curve of its limbs untarnished and shining brilliantly in the evening light. I searched some more and discovered the hard shell of my arrow quiver and a number of silver-tipped arrows still inside. I stood and slung the quiver over my shoulder with my bow in hand, feeling almost complete with the items on my person. 

The wind picked up and blew through my hair, insisting that I look further. I stepped into the wreckage of the building, an unsettled feeling rising in the pit of my stomach. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of red against pale grey stone; I turned, staring at the scene before me with wide, horrified eyes.

A short distance from where my bow was found, there was a violent splatter of crimson against the rubble. It looked like a balloon full of paint had popped, streaking the cold stones with a sickeningly bright shade of red. Among the drying mess, there was a flurry of scorch marks strewn across the area, a minor crater digging into the earth where the scene lay. I realized what this all was, my hands trembling as I clutched my bow. 

I had died here.

I screwed my eyes shut, plagued with a sudden onslaught of memories that I no longer wished for. Falling to my knees, I held my head in my hands and shook violently, my head pounding with a torrential rain of scenes flashing in my mind. All I could do was be swept away in the flood.

* * * * *

“Are you still mad at me?”

I blinked at Techno with an arrow in hand, sharpening its tip and inspecting the edge. I was mad at him, but I didn’t feel like giving him an answer. If he had to ask, he already knew; we were both smart enough to understand each other like that. He sighed when I wordlessly turned my gaze back to my arrow, stepping towards me and plucking it from my grasp. I jumped up, prepared to steal it back. “Hey—!”

“You know why I had to do this. Don’t get mad at me,” Techno said, his voice low and serious. 

I crossed my arms and frowned. “Right. You have to team with Dream just to blow up a country. You definitely couldn’t have done it on your own or, I don’t know, with me to help, yeah? Because the great Technoblade is always right—”

“We have common interests—”

“And I hate being interrupted.”

Techno went silent after I snapped at him, adjusting his cape while I gritted my teeth. “I thought you hated him,” I said slowly, “and I hated him too. You know what he did, you know how it hurt me, and you still…” I trailed off, feeling suddenly exhausted—exhausted from fighting, exhausted from chasing a peace I could never have. 

Techno placed a gentle hand on my shoulder—a gesture he rarely used, and reserved for me—and met my eyes. “Just this once,” he said. “I still owe him a debt, but this will be the end. It’s within our reach.”

“I could die,” I said plainly. This made Techno pause, his entire body freezing over like a lake in winter, so I pushed further. “I could die. I could lose my last life, and I gladly will for what we’re doing, because I believe in this. I know we haven’t always been right, but I know that this is. I hate that you let Dream in, and I’m going to be angry. I deserve to be angry.”

“You’re not going to die,” he said with certainty. “Not when I’m there.” 

I couldn’t tell if Techno was trying to reassure me or himself with his words, but either way, the weight of the possibilities made my stomach turn with anxiety. “You can’t be so sure. I’m not exactly as talented as you are at everything,” I countered.

“Don’t say that,” Techno insisted, his tone full of frustrated reassurement. “I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you. Never again. And hey,” he started, poking my cheek, “you’re more than capable of handling yourself, anyway. You couldn’t die even if you wanted to.”

“I think you have too much confidence in me, Techno.”

“Cut that sentence 3 words short and I’ll consider agreeing with you.”

I sighed, finally letting myself crack a small smile. “I’m still mad at you, but I trust you. Only out of pity though—I know you couldn’t last a day without me around.”

Techno grinned, his sharp-toothed grin melting the ice as he returned my arrow. “Good thing it’ll never come to that.”

I shook my head, twirling the arrow in my hand while I inspected it silently. Techno turned away to prepare his own weapons, leaving me alone with the aftermath of our conversation. 

My anger had been redirected with my friend’s words of reassurance, now colliding with my resentment for Dream. Even though I did have faith in Techno, I still feared the possibility of Dream playing a trick on us. I sharpened my arrow and considered my choices: I follow Techno’s lead and go along with Dream’s help, or I take matters into my own hands. I finished up with my arrows, placing them neatly into my quiver as I prayed that the latter wouldn’t have to occur.

I already knew well enough that war was brutal.

With a deep, tired sigh, I leaned back and recalled a time not so long ago—just a few years at most—when I wasn’t resentful of Dream. We were friends, once, and I’ll admit that I admired him; I bitterly wondered what would have happened if I had ever found the courage to tell him just how much I adored him, but the thought made some long forgotten part of me ache, prickling my heart with thorns. It was shameful of me to wonder what could have been, even more so to speak it; there was a reason why only Techno knew, and there was a reason why his decision made my blood bubble over in frustration and betrayal. 

I considered the moment I caught Dream shifting, edging away from his former self as his own hubris overtook him, rotting his soul as something else took form. He had always treated me as an equal, and he charmed me with his kind words and gentle gaze. I couldn’t begin to understand how suddenly he was so cruel to me, taking me by surprise when his usual soft tone became sharp and grating, tearing me apart from the inside out. I had only ever been supportive of him, even when he did things I couldn’t agree with; even when his friends turned their backs on him; even when I found myself seeking his approval at every turn despite his cruelty. Nothing I did could ever seem to be enough.

The first time I was separated from Dream was after Techno captured me, initially planning to use me as leverage against his rival to put an end to the government. After finding me, though, he must have seen what I couldn’t: the hollowness that Dream had left behind. The anarchist took pity on me, if you could even call it that; mostly, Techno shook me awake from the nightmare I had been living and made me realize the extent of Dream’s manipulation. I felt dirty for a long while after my realization, plagued with the sense that I would never feel safe or whole again. A part of me still felt that way, even, but at least I had the sense now to not seek out the shadows when they beckoned me over.

Technoblade was a surprisingly good friend through it all. It was him who helped me become myself again, but he would always argue that it was my own doing. He frustrated me sometimes with his monotonous tone and his thirst for anarchy, but at the end of the day, I could never stay mad at him; Techno had a good heart, and his honesty and dedication to his morals was enough to convince me. Even through my fog of anger at his teaming with Dream, even when I questioned whether this was a good idea, a sensible part of me knew that this was nothing like what Dream had done to me. Techno didn’t hide his nature as Dream did, and I could trust him in that.

A knock on the cabin door brought me out of my thoughts. I heard Techno’s footsteps as he stepped back into the room, a knife in hand. “Do you know who it is?” he questioned, scrutinizing the door when I shook my head in response. I stood from my chair and followed behind Techno, who peeked out the window and let out a tired sigh before swinging the door open.

“Hello, Dream. What are you doing at my house?” my friend deadpanned.

Dream lowered his grinning mask, his own lips drawn back into a polite smile. “Oh, just checking in before tomorrow. I wanted to see if you needed anything.”

“You could have sent a message first,” Techno replied, tapping the messenger device on his wrist. “I don’t really appreciate unwanted guests.”

“I figured it wouldn’t be much of a problem since we’re on the same side now. And I tend to find surprise visits are a lot more… Insightful,” Dream mused. His eyes peeked over Techno’s shoulder to meet mine and I stiffened, standing straighter. Dream, perceptive as usual, smiled wider, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners before he spoke to me in a soft voice. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

A cold hand gripped my heart, the blood pulsing in my ear drums. I hated him; I hated that he hardly had to speak for me to begin to crumble. I attempted to reply in a steady voice despite the slight tremor that shook me. “Yeah, it has.”

Before Dream could say anything else, Techno stepped up as though to shield me. “You know, we have everything we need here. You should probably make sure your things are sorted, though,” he announced. 

Dream’s smile faltered for half a second before returning. “Hm, I think you’re right. Just remember to give me the signal,” he said, beginning to turn away from the door. Dream hesitated, giving me one last look before he addressed me, his words kind, though laced with a cold, haunting tone. “I’ve missed you. Good luck tomorrow.”

It wasn’t until Techno had shut the door and confirmed that Dream had left that I allowed myself to breathe. I hadn’t even realized that I was holding my breath in the first place; I felt lightheaded and weary as Techno sat me down and asked if I was alright. I nodded, watching the worried man cross the room to fetch me a glass of water. With a shudder, I took in the sight of the floorboards and listened to my friend rummaging around the kitchen. My stomach churned and my mind flashed with sudden clarity about what I would have to do.

I was going to kill Dream.

The following day felt like a blur. Every motion leading up to the total destruction of L’Manburg was like a sharp jab of a paintbrush, a swipe across a canvas already drenched in paint. There was a picture here, some greater meaning when you stepped away from it all, but in the midst of things, it didn’t quite matter. All Techno cared about was erasing the country for good and keeping us alive; all I wanted was to get the day over with.

I had spent the entire night trying to decide whether it was truly a good idea for me to go after Dream or leave him be. A part of me felt that it was a terrible idea, a decision that would only serve to lead me to certain death; still, another part of me wanted closure. I didn’t think of myself as anything special compared to Techno, Phil, or even Dream himself when it came to combat skills, but the truth was that I was more than capable of holding my own in battle. I had been through my fair share of wars, and the experience in addition to training with Techno led me to become a skilled warrior of my own. As I considered it, I found myself realizing with a newfound confidence that I had the strength to take down Dream all on my own if I wanted to. My only question was how I would go about this.

The answer came surprisingly soon.

Techno and I had been doing well against L’Manburg’s defense—there was only a scare when Sapnap came close to taking one of Techno’s lives during a fight, but I had stepped in with a nicely timed arrow to his head, which made our enemy disappear into a cloud of smoke as his life was lost. Techno and I chugged some invisibility potion, courtesy of Phil, and hid around a building to watch everyone fight off the withers while we healed ourselves.

“What’s taking him so long? We’ve been at it for—” Techno glanced at his watch, “—thirty minutes! And here I thought Dream was all about punctuality,” my friend griped, taking a bite out of an apple.

“I’m not surprised. Of course he would choose today to take his sweet time,” I assessed, thumping my head against the brick building. “He’s probably going over his plans to sacrifice us next as we speak.”

“We are not getting sacrificed.”

“You never know,” I hummed. “It’s not a bad thing to be cautious, is it?”

Techno snorted. “Well, I suppose not. We’ve survived this long, though, so I have a good feeling about this.”

I nodded, peering in the direction of my friend. We couldn’t see each other due to the potion, but if I focused hard enough, I could catch a shift in the light that alerted me of his position. I felt a sudden urgency within me—some calling to spill my fears, inky and black, before I choked. “I need you to do me a favor,” I blurted.

I watched the light shift and turn. “What? What’s going on?” Techno wondered.

“If something happens to me, if I lose my last life,” I began in a serious tone, “don’t look back.”

“I… don’t understand. What are you saying? You won’t—”

“Techno, if I die, you carry straight through with the plan. Don’t come for my things, don’t try to help me, just go. Please. Can you promise me that?”

The light shimmered slowly, hesitantly. “Of course you choose now to drop that on me,” Techno muttered bitterly, but I could hear the underlying hurt. “I can never say no to you, though, can I?”

“It is your best trait,” I joked, though there was a heaviness in my voice.

The shift in the light leaned back as Techno sighed. “Alright, fine. It won’t come to that, but I’ll do it. I promise.”

“Thank you. For everything,” I confessed, stressing the importance of all that he’s done for me in my reply. 

Before Techno could reply, a resounding boom went off nearby. Dirt and debris flew past us as plumes of gray smoke shrouded our sight. Between the clouds of smoke, I could see a flash of bright green and a bone-white mask.

“He’s here,” Techno mumbled next to me. “Let’s get moving.”

The pair of us sprinted across the land, dodging at the sight of explosives and attacking enemies under the guise of our invisibility. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dream dropping TNT from the tops of buildings and hurling them at every patch of land in his vicinity. By the time he was finished, I knew there would be nothing left.

The invisibility began to wear off shortly after that, and I watched as Techno’s vibrant red cape began to fade back into view. I followed my friend from a short distance until I realized that Dream was completely distracted in his efforts to destroy the nation. As Techno veered down one path, I caught him by the arm. “I’m heading the other way,” I said.

Techno immediately began to protest. “No, you’re not. Don’t be stupid.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You were the one worried about losing your last life, and now you’re trying to split? We have to stick together.”

“I’ll be quick. You won’t even know I’m gone,” I reasoned, already turning to leave. “I promise I’ll be back.”

Techno frowned, but eventually his shoulders became less tense as he reluctantly decided to let me go. I gave him a nod of thanks before hurrying off to a building that hadn’t yet been destroyed. Fortunately for me, the citizens seemed to have cleared out, so no one was there to intervene as I leapt over crumbling buildings and the charred remains of the nation. My heart raced in my chest and I clutched my bow tightly in my hand. It would all be over soon enough, I thought, and I would be the one to end it all. 

I reached a building that hadn’t been completely damaged from the TNT and scaled the wall. My fingers were wedged into the grooves of the brick until I reached the ledge at the very top, tugging myself up and throwing my legs over the side. I huffed and looked up to watch Dream, practically gliding on air as he hurled explosives at the ground without remorse. I squinted and realized through the haze of smoke and ash that he had nearly hit bedrock, yet he continued to demolish the same area of land. It was like he wanted to blow a hole straight through the ground, so deep that he’d be able to see the other side. 

I shook away the nervous shudder that ran down my spine and instead raised my bow to aim while Dream was distracted. I glared at the back of his head and lined my sight to him, the familiarity of the motion sending a sort of ease through my tense muscles.

It was an easy shot. I could do it.

I drew a deep breath and held it while I drew my arrow back, pulling the string taut. With a slow sigh, I released.

My arrow soared above the destruction, seeming to transcend the rules of time and space. The light made the metallic edge glimmer as though a star was shooting across the expanse of land, bright and beautiful and destructive all at once. 

Dream was still turned away as the arrow launched towards him, and for a moment I felt sure that I had succeeded in my efforts. Right before the arrow was able to lodge itself in his head, though, Dream ducked, and the arrow flew past his head. He rose again to stand straight and turned slowly to face me, the blank eyed smile on his mask mocking me. My blood turned to ice in my veins and I frantically drew another arrow to fire, this time pointed at his heart. 

Before I could release the arrow, Dream held up a stick of dynamite and pelted it right next to the building I stood on. It was close enough that I took damage and fell back as the earth shook around me. My head smacked against the roof and I groaned at the dizzy shock that sparked against my skull. I lay there, my head pounding, focused on the rumble that rattled my bones as I tried to regain my bearings. 

By the time I had struggled onto my knees, Dream was hovering over me. I glared up at him for one silent moment before snatching my bow and striking his mask, which cracked and shattered to the ground. He stumbled back and I took my chance to load an arrow, but my head was still pounding, my coordination thrown off by the blow I had taken. Dream took advantage of my weakness and kicked the bow out of my hands, where it skidded across the roof and over the edge. I had made a feeble attempt to catch it before it tipped over, but I was too late.

Dream caught a fistful of my hair, yanking me backwards, and I growled, an animalistic sound that scratched my throat as I dragged my feet and struggled in his grasp. I kicked up dirt and clawed at the pale hands that trapped me, yelping when my captor shoved me to my knees. I must have looked ridiculous, like a child throwing a tantrum, as I thrashed and screamed to try and get away. “This is what happens to anyone who doesn’t follow my orders. You really thought you were smart enough to turn on me?” Dream laughed darkly, tightening his grip even as I scratched streaks of red into his skin. “You’re pathetic. I almost feel bad for you.”

“Fuck you,” I spat, attempting to jerk away, but Dream’s grip was unbreakable.

“I hope you’re not this rude to Technoblade. Where is he, by the way?” I struggled while Dream called out for my friend, who I watched sprint towards us between exploding buildings and smoke.

“Dream, what is this?” Techno heaved, meeting us on the building. 

The man in question nodded his head towards me, a warrior bloodied and brought to my knees. “I think it’s about time I used that favor,” he said coldly.

My heart sank to the pit of my stomach, and I felt my body begin to numb with fear. If I wasn’t sure of it before, I was now; this was the end for me. 

It was almost laughable, the irony of this situation; the promises to keep each other safe that I had made with my best friend—the only friend I had left—were tearing apart at the seams. 

“Maybe you should rethink this before you do something you’ll regret, Dream,” Techno threatened.

“Oh, I won’t be regretting anything. But you might.” Dream gestured with his free hand towards the bundle of fireworks in Techno’s hand. “Kill them.”

The situation was eerily similar to another from so long ago in this very nation—when Techno was ordered by Schlatt to kill Tubbo. I could see the realization in his eyes, the acknowledgment of the parallels, the regret and anger and so much fear. I had never seen him so scared, but he remained stubborn. “I won’t do that,” he replied.

Dream’s grip tightened as he jerked my head forward for emphasis. “Listen, Technoblade, you’re going to kill your little friend here because you owe it to me. If you choose not to, I’ll just take them for myself so I can do it instead. You probably wouldn’t want that, though—I won’t be so kind. Oh, and don’t even think about trying to kill me instead. One of you was already stupid enough to try.”

“This isn’t what I meant when I said I’d do you a favor.”

“Isn’t it, though? Look around, Techno. The only reason this is happening right now is because Tommy betrayed you. He could have chosen you, he could have stayed on your side, but he didn’t. This is the consequence, right? And this—,” I yelped as Dream snatched me and held me up as evidence, “—is what happens when I’m betrayed. You all agreed to help me, and now my trust is broken. So pick up a fucking weapon and do me a favor.”

My friend stood frozen as he tried to calculate some way out of this, but I knew I had ruined any chances of a better life for us. It was my actions that were about to get me killed, by the only person who ever truly loved me, nonetheless.

“Do it,” I told Techno. “Please, just get it over with.”

Technoblade looked down at me, his eyes full of hurt as his brows furrowed. “No. You’re crazy, why would I do that? I made you a promise—”

“So did I. But there’s nothing else to do. I fucked it up, so I’m asking you to do this. Not for him, for me,” I pleaded, painfully aware of the grip Dream had on my hair. “I’d rather it be you. No one but you.”

I watched as Techno’s face contorted into a woeful expression. The guilt was bubbling over in the pit of my stomach, an all-consuming feeling that made me sick with sorrow for what I was asking him to do. We were one and the same, him and I, a pair of lonely people made better with the other around. I would miss him and, even if he never chose to admit it, I knew he would miss me too. I could only hope that my absence wouldn’t destroy him. 

Slowly, Techno raised the firework launcher as he pointed it at my head. “You know, I always had a soft spot for you.”

My smile was regretful and watery; I prayed that he could hear my apologies without having to speak them out loud. I prayed even more that he could hear my unspoken words of gratitude, the unfinished symphony that was our friendship. “You’re the only person who ever knew me.”

Behind me, Dream groaned in annoyance. “Shut up with the monologues and get it over with,” he griped. With a harsh shove, the tip of the fireworks were pressed against my forehead. I bit my tongue, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth as I tried not to seem too meager in my final moments. Dream dropped me to my knees as he escaped the line of fire, now peering over Techno’s shoulder in waiting. I watched my friend’s hands shake, the light tremble of his finger as it hovered over the trigger. I wanted to give him some sort of reassurance, but how could I? How do you ease the heart of someone forced to kill their friend?

With a shaky, mournful sigh, Techno looked down on me, his knuckles white as he gripped the weapon. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

I squeezed my eyes shut with tears running hot over my cheeks, trying to recall a better picture in my mind. I thought of when I first met Techno, brainwashed and broken, a person slowly made whole again. I thought of the softness in his eyes even as he yelled at me over some mistake I had made. I thought of the nights he spent hunched over his desk writing about anything until I threw a blanket at him and dragged him into his bed. I thought of the mornings we would wake up early on a day of traveling just to catch the sunrise. I could have seen it a thousand times, and still, nothing would have ever compared to him; no amount of wealth or glory could even come close to making me feel as elated as he did. Techno was, without a doubt in my mind, my soulmate. The universe decided that for us; the sun and the moon and every star in the sky chose to bind us together, and what reason did I have to refuse it? 

My heart ached, jumping as the click of the trigger sounded. There was a bright flash, a pop, an explosion of color and sound—

Then nothing at all. 

[fific7]

Evil Twins - Part 4

Billy Russo & Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: When two worlds which have already collided then collide with yours - that’s an explosive situation.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with quite a lot of lemon zest 🍋 My Fantasy Punisher/Shadow and Bone crossover AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

This chapter is 🔥 rated from the get-go. And there’s some Guys being Annoying stuff too.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

You closed your eyes, waiting.

But you should really have guessed that they’d both go for it at the same moment.

Aleks slid his cock fully into your mouth and Billy pushed inside your core simultaneously. Just as you gagged from Aleks’ cock hitting the back of your throat, Billy fully sheathed himself inside you and you gave a strangled gasp in response.

“Ssshh, ssshh,” soothed Billy, “you’ll get used to us in a second.”

He took a firm grip on your hips and began thrusting into you, while Aleks took hold of your head in both hands and began fucking into your mouth. The two of them then freed a hand and each grasped one of your breasts, kneading and massaging them in synchronisation with their thrusts.

Do they do everything in tandem? - a far part of your mind wondered.

Your eyes were watering by now as each stroke of Aleks’ was hitting you pretty hard, and so you decided you’d better try and relax your throat a bit otherwise he’d end up choking you when he came. At least, you assumed he’d come in your mouth.

You’d still been tensed up from their double penetration and you noticed that it was slightly more comfortable for you once you had managed to relax a little. Aleks was setting a ferocious pace, groaning and muttering foreign words you couldn’t quite catch. He was pushing your head even further forward against his thrusts, so you made yourself relax even more.

Billy, meanwhile, slid his hand in between your legs and began massaging your clit as he kept up his furious, deep thrusting. Each one was forcing a moan from you - partly stifled by Aleks’ cock in your mouth - but you knew Billy heard them as he whispered, “I hear you, sweetheart - get ready to scream!” And you knew you would, you could feel your orgasm building already.

Aleks suddenly grabbed your head with both hands again, jerking quickly against your lips, and you hastily swallowed the warm liquid you felt spilling onto your tongue in case it started dribbling out. Billy built up his thrusting and massaging of your clit to a crescendo, your climax hit you like a truck and you did scream, then felt his body tense and he was coming too a split-second later.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Stroking your hair and face, Aleks drew his cock slowly out of your mouth, leaning down to kiss you, “My good girl,” he whispered against your ear, “taking my cock the way you did and then swallowing all my come.” You felt quite proud of yourself and then wondered - with extreme irritation - why on earth you were thinking that way.

Billy pulled out of you, leaning down and you felt him firstly kissing then licking, licking and licking at your clit with that tongue of his until you were squirming again. “Hey, stop that,” said Aleks, “her next orgasm’s mine.” Billy sat up, shrugging, “Okay, but only ‘cause you haven’t had a perfect pussy like this for decades or whatever you were claiming.” Aleks huffed and began to square up to him, but you said (somewhat hoarsely and tiredly), “Don’t start, you two!”

They both backed down, and Billy slid himself along your body so he could kiss you. You could see Aleks stroking himself out of the corner of your eye but Billy distracted you by kissing you hungrily and running his fingers along your jaw. Suddenly you jumped, as the second hard cock you’d had inside you that night pushed its way into your pussy. You jumped again as you felt it continue to push fully inside you but Billy held you close to him, soothing you and whispering, “You’re doing great, baby girl,” as Aleks began to thrust into you.

Billy sat right up on his knees and straddled your head, and that’s when you realised that he had another erection too. Of course he did. He gently pulled your mouth open and pushed his tip inside, quickly following with his full shaft, and he also began thrusting so once again you tried to relax your throat a little while he held the back of your head, then slid his other hand down behind him to grip one of your breasts.

Aleks was forcefully thrusting in and out of you, and once again loud gasps were forced out from your mouth around Billy’s cock. Aleks had a grip underneath your backside and was pushing you hard against his hips, while massaging your other breast. Then the hand on your ass went between your legs, and his thumb pushed inside till it reached your clit and he began massaging it while continuing to squeeze your breast.

Billy thrust deep into your throat and gave a feral grunt, releasing his come into your mouth, and while Aleks was still working you, you were busy swallowing as quickly as you could once more. Aleks was still pounding into you and rubbing furiously at your clit, and your orgasm burst on you like a firework going off. He continued thrusting for a moment or two more then he climaxed, and a second load of come was released into you.

The three of you sounded like you’d just sprinted home past the winning line in the Olympics, and this time the two of them kind of collapsed onto you. Billy and Aleks both pulled their cocks out of you, and you took in some huge gulps of oxygen. “Oh, baby girl,” gasped Billy, “that was amazin’.” Aleks took in a deep breath, “Fucking amazing, as I think my charming brother would put it.”

Billy sat up and crawled down the bed on his hands and knees. “I think our girl needs another orgasm as a reward,” you heard. “No, I’m fine, thanks,” you said, but then felt your legs being parted anyway and a beard started tickling your inner thighs. Billy’s tongue made its way right inside you, and he licked you deep and long before adding two fingers to the mix. You began mewling - you couldn’t believe it but yeah, you were actually mewling - and then his thumb hit your clit and began rubbing you so hard you thought you were going to come right then. He worked you with everything he had for a few minutes longer before your climax hit you and you definitely heard yourself scream his name.

Billy’s face - complete with glossy lips and chin shining in the low light - popped up from between your legs with the biggest smirk ever on it. Then you saw a sulky-faced Aleks also crawling down the bed, “Move!” he growled at Billy, “I’m going to give her another orgasm too.” “No!” you squealed, you knew you were in imminent danger of becoming over-stimulated.

But Aleks’ dark head disappeared between your legs, while Billy climbed up your body and began using his teeth and tongue on your nipples. Once again you felt a beard scratching at your inner thighs then Aleks pushed a finger inside you, swiftly followed by a second and then his tongue. He worked you with those for a while before moving his tongue to your clit and roughly licking at you. It really didn’t take very long before you were orgasming again, and this time you remembered to scream his name (it was only fair after all, you thought.)

He emerged triumphant from between your legs, and Billy gave your nipples one last lick. Then the two of them collapsed one either side of you. Each gave you a long and open-mouthed kiss and told you in turn how truly fantastic the sex had been. They’d insisted on adding some graphic details as proof - like you’d needed any - assuring you they’d got deeper inside you and further down your throat than they’d ever got before.

Both yawning mightily, they each threw an arm over your stomach and promptly fell asleep, snuggled into your side, noses buried against your neck.

You lay awake on your back for quite a while after they’d fallen asleep, listening to their even breathing, occasional soft little snores and feeling little huffs of their breath on your neck.

Pondering on the current situation, while you were still annoyed that they’d ambushed you in your own bedroom and had ignored you when you said to stop, you had to admit to yourself that 1) right from the moment they arrived, they’d made you feel very horny and 2) you didn’t think you’d ever had better sex in your whole damn life.

You looked either side of you at the two dark heads next to yours on the pillows, and thought that the old saying “be careful what you wish for” definitely applied here. Only a very short time ago, you’d been bemoaning the lack of any hot men in your little town.

Now it seemed you had yourself two lovers. At the same time. And it was fucking exhausting.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d eventually dropped off to sleep - you didn’t usually sleep on your back but had had no choice in the matter - and when you awoke, the two men in your bed were still asleep. You needed to go to the bathroom, rather urgently, so you unhooked the two arms from over your stomach and managed to extricate yourself from the tangle of legs, standing up off the bed and grabbing your robe off the ottoman. They had both stirred in their sleep when you’d got up but neither awoke.

You tiptoed out of the room and made your way to the bathroom, nearly shrieking when you looked in the mirror and saw the love bites all over your neck, and again when you pulled your robe aside and saw even more all over your breasts. You then carried out a full body survey, and in addition to the marks you’d already seen, there were also fingermarks visible on your wrists, hips and inner thighs and your breasts and nipples were quite swollen and sensitive. Oh well, you thought, it was some night after all.

You’d washed your hands and were just finishing brushing your teeth when the door opened and in breezed a naked Billy. Damn! You needed to remember and lock the door, you never usually did as you lived on your own.

“Mornin’, sweetheart!” You were grabbed into a bear hug and a long kiss was planted on your lips. Then he strode over to the toilet, flipping the lid up before taking hold of his cock and letting go with a golden river of pee. He finished, giving his cock a shake, putting the lid back down and flushing the toilet. “See,” he winked at your shocked face, “I’m housetrained.” He came and stood next to where you were still rooted to the spot at the sink, and began washing his hands. “Got a spare toothbrush, angel?” You did as it happened, and took two out of the bathroom cabinet, one dark blue and one black. He whipped the dark blue one out of your hand, unwrapping it and grabbing the toothpaste.

A few seconds later, toothbrush busily scrubbing at his teeth, his dark eyes sought out yours and he grinned at you, mouth full of toothpaste. “Aleks was right though,” he said, dripping some toothpaste into the sink, “fuckin’ amazing sex, baby girl.” You blushed, still not having said a word to him, and he reached out his free hand, slipping it underneath your robe and rolling your nipple between his thumb and finger.

“Ready for another session?” he winked at you, “How about now?” He gestured at his stiffening cock. He rinsed out his mouth and dried his face with the towel, throwing it back over the rail before locking the door, grabbing you and pushing you up against the wall next to the sink. “No… Billy… I need to..” “You need to what, sweetheart?” His fingers grasped your jaw and he kissed you, heat building. “Get ready for me, that’s the only thing you need to do,” he smirked. And he untied your robe, pushing it down off your shoulders so it fell to the floor in a heap. He looked appreciatively at the love bites littering your skin, “Wow! We really did some territory markin’ last night, huh?”

His head went down and he fastened his lips onto a nipple, sucking at it then biting. He lifted one of your legs and held it at waist level before moving his by now fully hard cock to your core and guiding it inside you, forcing a gasp from your lips. “Mmmm, you like that, angel? Course you do. ‘Cause I know I do,” he whispered in your ear as he started to thrust into you. You found yourself nodding like an idiot. He pulled your hips even closer against his and he fucked you like that for however long, you lost track of time quite honestly.

He was biting and licking and sucking at any bit of skin he could reach, and you were sure your upper torso was just going to be one giant love bite by the time he was finished. He’d started rubbing your clit and your orgasm followed like clockwork, then he came shortly afterwards. Billy pulled out of you, placing your bare foot back on the floor and then kissing you tenderly. “The sex… it’s just outta this world, sweetheart.” He gazed into your eyes, “I’m not lyin’, you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

He grabbed a towel and began gently wiping your inner thighs and then your pussy. You felt yourself blushing - again! you thought, what the fuck’s the matter with me?! as you picked up your robe and put it back on, but before you could actually say anything, the door handle rattled and you heard Aleks’ voice demanding, “Let me in, I’ve got to go! And what exactly is going on in there?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy unlocked the door and smirked at his twin, “Sorry, bro - just takin’ care of business,” before winking at him and brushing past him.

Aleks strode into the bathroom, standing there in just his boxers and suspiciously raking his eyes over you. Suddenly you felt like you had a neon sign on your forehead - ‘I’ve just been thoroughly fucked’. He frowned at you, “Oh okay… I see,” he said, managing to make you feel guilty for some reason. “Well, my turn now, darling.” You suddenly realised that having two lovers simultaneously really was going to be quite tiring.

In another case of deja vu, Aleks locked the door and you then witnessed the whole peeing/hand washing/teeth brushing scenario again. Then your robe was stripped off you once more, he stripped off his boxers, and Aleks was also looking at your love bites with a smile on his face, very impressed with him and his twin’s handiwork. What is it with guys and love bites, you wondered?

Aleks was now sporting a hard-on but in a change to the published programme so to speak, you were gently turned around and your backside pulled back against his hips before he assertively pushed his cock inside you, and he gripped your hips as he started thrusting into you. One hand slid up your abdomen to grab one of your breasts and he ran his thumb over your nipple, before beginning to squeeze your breast. His other hand kept hold of your hip, and eventually his hand left your breast and travelled to your clit. He massaged you to an orgasm before continuing to thrust for some time, but finally he came and held you close against him, kissing your neck and your jaw and your cheek as he pulled out of you.

“My little one, you truly are something else,” he whispered, also grabbing a towel and gently wiping your legs and pussy, just as Billy had done. How did they manage to mirror each other all the time? You guessed it must be the twin thing. He opened the bathroom door and the two of you emerged, and as you headed back to the bedroom you spotted Billy - black boxer briefs on now - lying on the sofa channel surfing. Aleks dropped down onto the other sofa, stretching like a big cat and ready to start watching with him.

So, you thought, they were back on your sofas in just their underwear again and looking very pleased with themselves. The two of them turned their heads and gazed at you as you walked across the living area, smiles on their faces, casting inviting and worshipful and lustful looks towards you.

But you forced your eyes away and headed to the now-calmness of your bedroom. The only thing you were going to do for the next few hours was sleep.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy and Aleks heard her close her bedroom door and looked at each other, matching self-satisfied smiles on their faces.

“Fuck, she’s somethin’ else, isn’t she?” asked Billy, and Aleks smirked at him, “Yes - and I just told her that in there,” he said, nodding his head towards the bathroom. His twin crossed his hands beneath his head and lay looking up at the ceiling, “You know, I really didn’t think she’d go for it,” he mused, “I really didn’t.” “Told you she would,” replied Aleks, “there was a ton of mutual attraction and sexual tension between the three of us.”

“Whaddya think we should do? Let her rest for a little while before we go back for more?” Aleks nodded, “Oh yes, definitely - I mean we can do with some R&R ourselves.” Billy nodded, “Yeah, true - I admit I feel like a truck ran over me. Haven’t had a sex marathon like that for a long time.” He turned his head and looked at his twin, “But I meant what I said to her, I haven’t ever had it so good before.”

Aleks nodded, “Me neither, I meant it too. The way she just took both of us at once. Amazing… not an ounce of fight in her. Well, not that much to speak of, anyway. Nothing we didn’t overcome in a heartbeat,” he shook his head in wonder.

There was a short silence, then Billy pondered, “I wonder if she’s into anal?” Aleks’ face screwed up, “Even if she is, I’m not!” “Don’t panic, bro - I’m not either. I just wondered if she was.” “Ask her!” Billy shook his head, “Nah. Don’t want to ruin a beautiful friendship.” They both chuckled.

“Anyhow, I don’t intend on giving up regular, mind-blowing sex anytime soon so I say we don’t leave her alone too long. She might overthink it, start having second thoughts about us being a threesome,” said Aleks, “I really don’t think we should chance it.”

Billy nodded, “Yeah, she might get cold feet.” Aleks looked at him, “What? But she’s got a big quilt. How can her feet get cold?” Billy burst out laughing, “It’s a figure of speech, you idiot! It means when someone decides they don’t want to do somethin’ they were gonna do after all.” “Oh, I see! Well, I think that’s a really stupid saying.”

His twin shrugged, “Whatever. But yeah, let’s give her - maybe two hours tops? - and then we go in.” He smirked, “In every sense of the word!”

Aleks laughed, “Okay, yes.” His eyes took on a dream-like expression, “I can’t wait to be back inside her.” Billy gazed back up at the ceiling, “I can’t either. I can’t stop thinkin’ about her. And havin’ sex with her again - for hours. All night. All day. Just all the time.” “Now that sounds like a plan,” agreed his twin.

They both heaved big sighs, thinking about the woman in the next-door room.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were startled out of your doze by the rattle of a teacup on your bedside table. Lifting your head slightly, you realised your twin lovers were sitting on either side of you, naked and smiling down at you. Then your eyes dropped a little - two very erect cocks were looking back at you.

“No! I need some more sleep!” you protested. “We’ve brought you some tea to drink first,” said Aleks, soothingly. He picked up the teacup and held it in front of you, “I made it for you,” beaming proudly at you. Reluctantly you took the cup and sipped from it, finding to your surprise that the tea was in fact pretty good. “Good, yes?” asked Aleks, and you had to agree. “Drink it before it gets cold!” encouraged Billy, and you frowned at him. “Drink it so I can fuck you again, you mean!” you snapped. He grinned disarmingly at you, “You read me like a book, sweetheart!”

You struggled up a little more in the bed, carefully holding onto your cup. They were just gazing at you and you found it a little disconcerting. “Will you two stop staring at me!” Eyes still on you, seeing the swell of your breasts above the bedclothes, Aleks said in a breathy voice, “Oh… you’re naked.” Instinctively you pulled the bedclothes up, “I don’t want to have sex again right now, thank you!”

Billy lay down on his stomach, looking up at you with puppydog eyes and a pouted lip, “But we take such good care of you, angel!” Aleks leant in towards you, “And all we can think about is you, darling. And that perfect pussy of yours. We need more of it.” You pulled the sheet right up under your neck, “Well, you’re not getting back inside it right this minute, okay?”

You caught a look going between them, then both half-slid under the covers and lay beside you, arms on top of the bedclothes and heads in your lap. “We’ll just lay here with you and kiss you and hold you till you feel like it again. We can be patient because we love you, baby girl,” crooned Billy. Aleks stroked your knee above the sheet, “So much, darling.”

Laughing, you said, “Look, you guys really need to stop saying that bullshit. We’ve known each other for, what - two days?” Billy’s head popped up like a Jack-in-the-Box, looking indignant, “Have you never heard of love at first sight?” “Lust at first sight, you mean!” you replied. Billy nodded, “Yes, lust is in there, obviously it is… but we do love you,” he insisted, “you’re perfect for us.” Aleks was gazing up at you and nodding, “Perfect for us,” he echoed.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Baghra peered into the cracked and cloudy mirror which enabled her to see into the void.

She sighed, shaking her head. Those silly boys - thinking they were in love. They had been very impulsive in the feelings department when they were young, looks like the passage of centuries hadn’t changed things.

She had been aiming to have them materialise in what she thought was an empty flat, she hadn’t realised someone had currently been living in it. And certainly not a woman. It had been empty the one time she’d investigated it before she’d guided them there.

But maybe it was for the best. She’d been amazed when she realised they were actually sharing her - she would never have believed it if she hadn’t seen it for herself, them all sleeping together earlier that morning. Hopefully it would calm them down a bit, make them less aggressive - not least with each other. Surprisingly, she seemed to have an element of control over them, which impressed Baghra. Not that her boys realised that, she thought, smiling to herself, they thought they were totally in control.

Ah well, I suppose they deserve a bit of peace and pleasure, she thought. She put down the mirror and turned towards the nearby window, looking out into the dark night.

Bahgra was worried. There had been some unexpected and unexplained occurrences over the past couple of days, and now she wasn’t sure what might happen in the very near future.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@aleksanderwh0r3 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @s1xthirty @tartiflvtte @slythvoid @edithsvoice @paracosmenthusiast @mizelophsun11 @eroda-harry @theshadowkingsqueen @kestrafagnor @thelightinmyshadows

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»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Life Without Colour (PART FOUR)

Soulmate AU: Your vision is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You and your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, aren’t each others soulmates but you love each other. He introduces you to his friends, the Avengers, and a very odd thing happens.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Plus Size Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader

Taglist:  @domainoflostsouls​  forgetthisbull  handon-h-art  yourspecialcrush  giulsgotmusic  mrsbarnes-rogers  luosymekawa  linzeyzarcone  forgetthisbull   calamityreads  talgra 

Warnings: this one takes a darker turn; trigger warnings for kidnapping, drugged, threats/slight violence, Hydra, angst

Note: this is over 6000 words, enjoy!! x

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

A few weeks had passed since you first saw colour; a few weeks have passed since you and Steve talked through everything and made peace with Bucky Barnes being your soulmate which mean a few weeks have passed since you last saw or spoke to Bucky Barnes. After your 3am phone call, you hadn’t seen him. You’d told Steve about the phone call when you were both awake the next morning, telling him as much of the conversation as you could remember. He seemed fine with it, knowing about Bucky’s nightmares and erratic sleeping schedule. In fact, he appreciated the gesture that Bucky reached out to ask what you were comfortable with. What Steve appreciated more though was your honesty and the fact you were straight with Bucky and told him that you and Steve were happy together and nothing would change that.

Everything was fine with you and Steve, every issue had been ironed out and in fact, the two of you had never been closer. You were truly grateful for Steve’s forgiveness and now, the guilt had almost fully disappeared. He had helped you to heal that wound and you had helped to heal his wounds with trust; you had proved yourself to be honest and that it was just one slip up. 

Life had been good those few weeks, you spent more time with Nat and got to know about her budding relationship with Bruce. You’d seen the team a bit more than usual as well. No one else - besides Nat and Sam - knew about the soulmate fiasco and truthfully, it wasn’t their business to know anyway. Bucky hadn’t been around much, he’d called Steve a couple of times just to say that he was doing his own thing for a while as per your wishes. Steve was thankful to Bucky for providing that space even if it meant he had only seen his best friend a handful of times since he returned from Wakanda.

Things were good. Until they weren’t.

Steve and the some of the team got dragged to a mission across the country. It was a big one; Hydra were back and trying to infiltrate the systems. Brock Rumlow, or Crossbones as he referred to himself now, was after Steve and he wouldn’t stop until he got him. You didn’t really know what was happening with the mission, Steve was never allowed to tell you a lot about the missions, you just knew that it was a big one and it was dangerous. You hated when Steve was away on a mission; you hated the not knowing part of it all but you supposed it’s what you deserved for falling in love with Captain America.

You didn’t know how serious it was until you had been bringing the groceries into yours and Steve’s apartment and saw four men - three very large, hulking brutes of men - waiting for you. The scream that rose in your throat never found its way out before a gloved hand was forced over your mouth, holding a rag with something strong smelling over your mouth and nose. Brock Rumlow had you pinned in his arms, forcing you to breathe in the chemicals. You tried to fight against him as the fear radiated through your body, trying to put some of those self defence techniques that Natasha had taught you to good use but he was too strong and everything felt fuzzy around the edges. Your eyes were wide as you struggled, trying to escape, trying to scream; trying to do anything that would help to save you. Your heart pounded painfully against your ribcage and you could feel the panic set in when your vision began to blur. You could see the three men approach, weapons in hand but a gruff voice in your ear said, “Stop struggling and we won’t hurt you.” Whether you wanted to stop struggling or not wasn’t up to you but instead, the choice had been taken away and given to the substance that you were breathing in. As the darkness crept in, you heard a faint voice say, “Get Rogers on the phone now.”

Flashes of light, snippets of sound and quick seconds of vision was what you experienced for a few hours as you drifted in and out of consciousness. It wasn’t until a loud bang erupted a few rooms away that you really began to come back to life. Squinting in the low light, you blinked hard, trying to focus on something to figure out where you were. Wherever you were, it was dark and dim and it smelled faintly of the explosion of fireworks on the 5th of November.

You weren’t hurt, your neck ached from the position you’d been in for what you could only assume was the last few hours. You went to move when you realised that your hands and feet were bound. That’s when you really began to wake up. What the fuck? Your memory was hazy but you remembered Rumlow and his goons in your apartment. You pulled at your hands, trying to get loose but the bonds that tied your hands were too tight. Squinting, you looked around the room, it was dark, with a metal door and a few wooden boxes in the corner. You were sitting on a wooden chair, hands and feet bound to the arms and legs of it. 

Your mind thought of Steve, oh god, Steve. You knew this had been Rumlow’s doing, what if he had gotten to Steve? What if- what if he- No. You couldn’t think like that. Steve had been on a mission states away from you. Rumlow had come to you because he obviously couldn’t get to Steve, he was drawing Steve out and you were the bait. Steve’s going to find you, (y/n). He said he’ll always protect you and he’ll keep that promise.

The more you panicked, the more you began to struggle; trying to break free of the ropes. Your breathing was quick and ragged as you struggled, your heart rate increasing with every passing second. Tears welled in your eyes as your mind raced with the horrors of what was going to happen to you. You froze when you could hear grunting outside, it sounded close.

Fear kicked you hard in the stomach, making you feel light headed and nauseous. You’d never been this terrified before. You thought that the most you could be scared was that time a spider ran across the bed when Steve was in a shower and you had to deal with getting it out of the apartment but no, tied to a chair after being drugged and kidnapped with explosions and not knowing what the fuck was going on... yeah, that’s a whole new level of fear. You tried to slow your breathing as you strained to listen to the commotion outside of the room you occupied. You could hear grunts and what sounded like punches before the metal door of the room was thrown open and there stood Sam Wilson. A sob got caught in your throat as you saw him.

He pressed his earpiece as he rushed to you, kneeling to help untie you, “I got her, Steve. Second floor, take a right, fifth door down. She’s okay.”

“Oh my god,” you sobbed as relief flooded your senses, “Oh my god, Sam!”

Sam murmured words of comfort as he worked on the ropes that bounded you to the chair, “It’s okay, they’re not gonna hurt you. We’ve got you now.”

He managed to get the last one untied when Steve ran into the room. He wore his Captain America gear sans the mask and carried the shield. As soon as he saw you, he tossed his shield to the side and rushed to your aid. Sam stepped to the side, picking up the shield and playing around with it as he allowed you two a moment to reunite. He was muttering about how the shield was much lighter than it looked.

“Steve,” you whimpered, throwing your arms around your boyfriend and allowing him to pull you up. He held you tightly, breathing heavy into your neck.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

“Sorry to interrupt but we gotta move,” Sam said after a minute, “before we get any more company.”

“Are you okay to walk?” Steve asks you, pulling you back to look at you, “Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you say, wiping your eyes, “Tired but I can make it.”

The three of you hurry out, Steve tells you not to look at the bodies on the floor but you do and you instantly regret it. “Are they-”

“Knocked out,” Sam says, answering your question before you finish it, “but won’t be for long so we gotta hurry.”

Everything’s a bit of a blur as Steve and Sam usher you out, careful to take you the safest and quickest path. You feel queasy after seeing the blood and the carnage of the few HYDRA men so your eyes are trained to the ground until Steve has you safe and sitting in the quinjet. 

Steve doesn’t let go of you, always touching or holding onto you in some way or another. You’re silent as Sam begins to fly the jet. Steve’s talking to you but you can’t focus on anything other than his hand in yours, “I’m tired,” you whisper, “I’m so tired.” You lay your head on Steve’s shoulder and darkness quickly encapsulates you.

You gasp awake, jolting upwards, “Whoa, (y/n), it’s okay!” A voice says quickly, “You’re okay, you’re safe remember. It’s Steve, sweetheart; it’s Steve. Look at me, (y/n).”

Your mind whirs, the tendrils of the nightmare still creeping around in your brain. Hands on your face force your eyes to stop fleeting from wall to wall and instead focus on the person in front of you. Steve stares at you, telling you that everything’s okay and that you’re safe now. Steve’s hands are on either side of your face as he makes you look at him. You blink hard, as your eyes struggle to focus on him. You hear the rapid beeping of the machine and you register that it’s your measuring your heartrate. His face finally sharpens and you can see him properly now.

“Slow breath in, sweetheart. You’re safe, I promise you. Copy me.” Steve takes a deep breath and you follow suit, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. Steve repeats to you that you’re in hospital and you’re safe, “No one can hurt you in here.”

You look away from him after a few seconds to look around you and sure enough, you are in hospital. The walls are pure white, too white and you’re in the hospital bed, “How did I get here?”

“We got you and you passed out again, I took you here just to make sure that whatever drug they gave you was out of your system. It’s leaving so you’ll be okay, sweetheart.” He brushes your hair back, “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t ever want to be an Avenger, I know that’s for damn sure,” you mutter as you close your eyes and fall back against the pillows, “How you guys deal with the fear is beyond me.”

Steve smiles but it’s sad. You open one eye, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it. You get some rest and I’ll be right here, (y/n). I’m not going anywhere. Doctors want to keep you in overnight just to make sure it’s all out your system, okay? I’m going to wait by your side all night and don’t worry, we have agents at every door in the hospital.”

“Rumlow?” You asked him, voice trembling, “Where’s he?” 

“SHIELD are closing in on him, sweetheart,” he sighs, stroking your hair back gently, “Don’t worry... He can’t get you in here.”

As Steve looked over you as you slept, Sam came into the room, “Coffee delivery.” Steve sipped at the hot coffee happily, “How is she?”

“Had a nightmare about it but she’s okay. She’s scared.” Steve’s eyes were trained on you as though we were watching a newborn infant to check its breathing, “God, what if we hadn’t found her in time?”

“But we did and we got her out. She’s safe, Steve.”

Steve shook his head, “But for how long?” He asked as he rubbed his face tiredly with one hand, “How long before Rumlow or HYDRA or someone else targets (y/n) to get to me?”

Sam swallows, “What are you thinking then?”

“She has to go somewhere safe, somewhere away from the chaos and the danger.”

“How long?”

Steve shrugs, “I don’t know... At least until we know all of Rumlow and his men are locked up.”

“You’ll go with her?”

It’s a big decision and he knows that you should be involved in it but he knows exactly what you’ll say; you’ll say that you want to stay with him and stay by his side even if it means living in terror of every bump in the night. He had been reckless, Steve had thought he was untouchable, he thought that you would’ve been safe but Steve underestimated the lengths these sorts of guys go to in order to win.

He shakes his head, hating the decision that he’s about to make but it’s for the best. It’s the only thing he knows that will protect you; it’s the only way he’s happy with you leaving, “No... but I know someone who will.”

Sam shakes his head, knowing exactly who he means and he raises his eyebrows, “You’re kidding, right? That’s a stupid decision, Steve, and you know it.”

Steve scoffs, “I wish... but... he’s strong, he’s good in a fight and I know that he’ll protect her no matter what.”

“But what if... what if they... you know?”

Steve takes a breath and releases it slowly, “Then I’ll deal with that when the time comes. I need to keep (y/n) safe and this is the only way...”

Sam’s hand is heavy on Steve’s shoulder as they watch you, “She’s not gonna like that decision.”

Steve laughs, knowing fine well that you will fight against the decision for all its worth, “Oh, yeah, I know. Probably won’t forgive me in a hurry either.” Steve stands up, “Will you watch her so I can go make a phone call? I’ll just be outside the door if you need me.”

Sam nods, taking Steve’s seat, as Steve grabs his phone from his jacket, dialling one number. He waits outside the room, just across from the two agents that Fury had placed outside of (y/n)’s hospital room 24/7.

“Steve?” He’d been sleeping, the one time Bucky Barnes is getting a decent sleep and his phone rings and wakes him. He always answers when it’s Steve though, regardless of the time or where he is.

“Hey, Buck... I need to ask you a favour.” Bucky asks what Steve needs and Steve begins to tell him, “Rumlow and HYDRA are after me. They kidnapped (y/n), she’s okay, in hospital but no injuries. She’s shaken up pretty bad and... Bucky, this is going to be a big ask.”

“Whatever you need, Steve, I’ll do.” He’s sitting, tugging a shirt on with one arm,  “What do you need?” Bucky Barnes would go to the ends of the Earth for Steve Rogers and he knows that whatever Steve needs, it’s something big.

“I need you to take her to a safe house.” Bucky freezes, he had expected Steve to ask him to come help for extra protection or something like that but this... this is huge, “I need you to take her. I don’t know how long for, a few weeks maybe months? No one else, it can only be you.”

“But... Steve...” He doesn’t say much but Steve knows what he’s saying. But Steve, I’m your girlfriend’s soulmate and you’re asking for me to take her into a secluded house alone? Just the two of us for god knows how long? Are you sure that’s a good idea?

Steve sighs heavily, “I know, Buck.” His tone almost sounds defeated, “I know... We were finally back on track and the universe hits out with this... I just need her to be safe, Buck, regardless of who he soulmate is or who she ends up falling in love with; I want her to be happy and I want her to be safe.”

“Why can’t you go?”

“They’re after me, I can’t let you or Sam or the team pick up my mess. I have to deal with it. That’s why I need you to go with her. You’re just as strong as me and... I know that you’ll keep her safe. I know that whatever happens, you’ll do everything you can to protect her... I need you to take her until we have Hydra locked up.”

Bucky licks his lips as he thinks about it. He doesn’t really know how to feel about it but he doesn’t really have to, Steve needs him and he’d follow that scrawny kid into the depths of hell if it mean he’d be helping him, “Okay, I’ll help. I’ll need a few days to find a safe house and get it prepped then I’ll fly out, okay?” He agrees to Steve’s ask though he has a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that all of this won’t go to plan. 

“Thank you, Bucky.” Steve closes his eyes as he leans against the wall, “You can’t tell me or anyone else where you’re going or where you’re taking her. I probably won’t be able to contact you so-” I’m leaving you with my girl alone with no contact from me or the team for weeks or months potentially, “- you gotta keep her safe. I’ve got some cash together for you to buy everything with that so you’re untraceable. Fury’s giving us more cash since we don’t know how long you’ll be away for.”

Bucky swears on his own life that he’d protect you with everything he has. Before Steve hangs up, Bucky says, “Steve, I just want you to know that no matter what happens... no matter what feelings arise... I won’t- I won’t do anything, I won’t act on anything, I won’t try and do anything about them...”

It’s the reassurance Steve needs and he feels a lot lighter now that Bucky’s said that. He smiles as he release a long breath, “I know you won’t, Bucky. I’ll see you soon.” Steve hangs up and walks back into the hospital room where Sam has Marvin Gaye playing quietly on his phone, “Do you just play Marvin Gaye to anyone in a hospital?”

Sam rolls his eyes, “It was too quiet, man! How did it go?”

“He’s onboard.”

Sam claps him on the shoulder, “You sure this is what you want? You know that I could take her or you could and I could hold the fort?”

Steve sighs, “It has to be him.” He shrugs, “I... I can only hope that nothing happens but god knows... All I know is that she’ll be okay with him.” The pair look over you as Steve’s thoughts swirl. This might be one of the last times you’re together in a romantic sense, he doesn’t know if you’ll come back loving Bucky or hating him and it makes him feel sick at the thought but he’s okay with it. He wants you to be happy and if that means it’s with Buck, then so be it.

“Absolutely not.”

“(y/n), come on-”

“No, Steve!” Your voice is raising due to the sheer stupidity of his request, “You’re saying that because you’re being targeted that means I’m a target too, I understand that, but what I don’t understand is why you’re asking me to go live in a safe house with Bucky for god knows how long! He’s my soulmate, Steve, I- I can’t.”

“The plans have already been made.”

“Then unmake them!” You’re angry and he gets it and to be honest, he doesn’t want this to happen either but it has to. He’d told you the next morning when the drugs were completely out of your system. Sam was back at the apartment checking for bugs, just in case Rumlow’s gang planted some when they were in and then he’d take you back to the apartment for you to pack a bag, “I’m not going Steve.”

“Yes, you are.” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you with a furrowed brow. He understands that you’re an adult who can decide their own fate but Steve is choosing this one for you, “You might not understand right now but when you come out the other end of this safe then I hope you’ll understand then.”

You shake your head as tears threaten to fall. You’re angry at Steve, that he made this decision and you knew you would be going no matter what fight you put up. It annoyed you, made you feel small and made you feel like a child who couldn’t make their own decisions, “Not without you, Steve. Why can’t it be you?”

“I’m trying to keep the fight away from you,” he says softly, hand on top of yours, “Bucky’s the only way you’ll be kept safe.” Silence falls for a moment before he speaks again, “I know what this means. I know what this could mean for... for us. I know that you could come back in love with Bucky and he for you. I know that you could come back and break up with me on the spot... That’s a risk I am willing to take.”

You shake your head, “No,” you whisper, “I’m not willing to take that risk, Steve.” You could trust yourself, that wasn’t the issue. You knew that no matter what, you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise your relationship with Steve. But... you and Bucky were soulmates and that had to be for a reason and it worried you that being alone with him for an unlimited amount of time would cause something to stir. You trusted yourself not to cheat on Steve but you didn’t trust your heart not to hurt Steve.

Steve crouched down beside the hospital bed and lifted your hand to his lips, “I know, sweetheart,” tears burned at his own eyes as he spoke to you, “I know the risk. I know that you could come back and we could break up instantly and if you want, we could break up right now so that whatever happens, you wouldn’t have to feel guilty about it-”

You swung your legs out of the bed, throwing your arms around him, “No,” you wept sadly into his shoulder, “that’s the last thing I want.”

He held you tightly, knowing that this very well could be one of the last times that the two of you had together in a relationship, “I’m doing this because I want to protect you, (y/n)… Bucky can protect you.”

“I-I love you, Steve,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. My god, how you loved him. He had changed your life, brought so much joy and happiness to it, “No matter what, I love you.” The two of you stayed like that for a long time, just needing to feel each other and needing to be with each other because... who knew what would happen over the course of the next few months?

With doctors granting you permission to leave the hospital and after having Sam debug the apartment, Steve took you home for your last night with him. The car ride to the apartment was quiet and your hand never left Steve’s as he drove you both home. You had relented with the decision, knowing full well that regardless of whether you said yes or no to leaving with Bucky, you would be going anyway. You and Steve had talked things over, about Steve’s duty to the job and to taking down Hydra, about Bucky and how he wasn’t going to overstep a line with you or anything like that. The pair of you spoke about the non-existent contact you’d have.

“Hopefully it won’t be too long,” Steve said, “maybe just a few weeks but these days, Hydra is everywhere and nowhere all in the one, it could be months. Bucky managed to find a safe house relatively quick. For obvious reasons, I don’t know where it is or what continent it’s on but he said that it’s secluded and it’s safe. He said that it comes with minimal furniture so tomorrow morning, you’ll leave.” You squeezed his hand tightly, not wanting to speak for fear of bursting into tears. Steve glanced over at you and gave you the tiniest of smiles. He lifted your hand and pressed a soft kiss to it.

When you reached the apartment complex, there were three black SUVs parked out front, Steve saw you looking, “SHIELD agents,” he told you, “We’ll have agents outside the apartment and one in each of our neighbour’s apartments.”

“Jeez,” you murmured, “I’m only here for one night, it’s like I’m a bloody Kardashian.”

Steve smiled slightly, glad to hear you make a joke, he wrapped an arm around you as you walked into the building, “Only the best for you, my love.”

You were rather apprehensive about going back into the apartment. It had been yours and Steve’s safe place and now... it seemed compromised almost. Steve seemed to pick up on your worry, “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said as he took the keys out of his pocket, “It’s been cleaned, debugged and also...” He unlocked the door to reveal red rose petals running from the front door into each room.

“Steve,” you whispered, looking at him with a smile. You walked into the apartment, hanging your coat up and kicking your shoes off. You followed the petals into the kitchen where there was a candlelit dinner waiting for the two of you.

“It’s not much but I had Nat come round and make it special since it’s our last night together.” Note; ‘last night together’ is different from ‘last night together for a while’. A pang of sadness shot through you, you leaned up to kiss him softly, whispering that you loved it.

“There’s a bath waiting for you if you want it. Some Chinese takeout if you’re hungry.”

You hugged him tightly, “Just hold me for a while.” So, the pair of you stood in the kitchen, holding each other in the dim light not knowing what would happen next. 

It was a few minutes later Steve tugged you to the kitchen table where you both sat down, “You remember our first night here?” He asked you as he handed you some take out cartons and began to eat.

You stifled a laugh, “Yeah, no electricity for three days and no hot water either!”

Steve laughed with you, taking a fork full of chow mein, “Yeah, having to eat Chinese take out on the floor with torches and candles all around us. Could’ve cried when the electricity finally turned on.”

You rolled your eyes, “You could have cried?! What the hell, Rogers? You teared up like you were watching your first born son marry!” 

The ice had been broken and the two of you could freely talk and laugh without boundaries. You both carried on as though it were a normal night, a date night with no mention As the night went on, you had a nice romantic bath as Steve cleaned the dishes and when you were finished, things ended in the bedroom.

You always loved laying on his chest, listening to the slow rhythmic beat of his heart and his steady breathing. Most people, if they knew it was their last night with someone would probably fuck until dawn but neither of you wanted that. You wanted nothing more than to lie with him, talking and just being there and being present. Steve wanted to hold you, wanted to tell you how much he cared and loved you and he just wanted to be with you.

“Whatever happens,” you said softly, “I just want you to know that this was real; this is real - that although we’re technically not soulmates, I truly believe that we are.”

Steve pulled you tighter into him, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I want you to know,” he said, “that no matter what feelings you start to have for Bucky, no matter how you feel towards me in the end up... I won’t blame you. I won’t expect you to love me like this on the other side. I won’t expect you to still want to be with me. I know that I’m forcing you into this situation and that kills me to do but I have to do it so whatever happens, it’s not your fault.”

You look up to him as you both whisper your confessions of undying love before kissing him gently. It’s a soft kiss, full of emotion and full of such sorrow. It’s a goodbye. You would say goodbye officially tomorrow but this was the real goodbye, this was the intimate goodbye, the letting go of the intertwined hearts and this was it. The kiss soon turned more passionate and then the two of you were confessing your love in the most intimate of ways.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Natasha asked you as she sat on yours and Steve’s bed. You were in the process of packing your bags.

“I feel like I’m perpetually on the verge of tears,” you answered, as you folded some t-shirts and squeezed them into the bag, “It’s hard, you know? I understand why but my god, Nat, I hate this.”

Nat studied you carefully and you knew the question that was on her mind. What if you fall for Barnes? To be honest, it had been the question on everyone’s mind that morning.

“I’m shit scared,” you admitted to her, dropping the bag onto the bed beside her as you ran your hands through your hair, “I am terrified. I am so in love with Steve and what if I come back madly in love with Bucky? Or better yet, in love with the two of them?”

Nat stood up, placing a gentle hand on your arm, “Hey, whatever happens, it’s going to be okay. You can’t stress about something that might not even happen. You have to take it day by day and if you fall for him then so be it. If you don’t, great. If you’re in love with the two of them then that’s something you and Steve have to talk about and sort out when you’re back. Don’t stress about it now.” She pulled you in for a tight hug, a very un-Nat thing to do, “Just know that I’ll be helping Steve sort out the Hydra mess, I’ll keep his ass safe and in line and hopefully it won’t be too long before you’re allowed to come home.”

“Thanks, Nat.” The two of you pulled apart, “You’ll need to keep a diary or something to update me on everything I’ll miss... especially with you and a certain Dr Banner.” You placed your phone on top of the counter, you couldn’t take it for fear of tracking so there was no point in having it. You sighed as you placed it down.

Nat rolled her eyes, “Yeah right. Let’s get this wig sorted.”

The Avengers were never too good at disguises, it usually always consisted of sunglasses and a cap so, in order to hide your identity further, Nat had brought you a wig the opposite colour, cut and style to your hair just now and some contact lenses of a different colour to your natural eye colour.

After a few minutes, you looked in the mirror, staring at someone who looked like a stranger, “Oh god, I hate it.” The top you wore wasn’t at all flattering for your body type. You tugged it down, wishing that it wasn’t quite so figure hugging. You didn’t mind things that clung to your body, you’d worked through a lot of the body issues you had but the top was a horrid colour and paired with this hair and these contacts... you didn’t feel like a Kardashian anymore. 

Nat laughed, “That means it works. Honestly, you look fine, stop worrying... Let’s go show the boys.”

You walked into the living room with your packed bags to see Sam and Steve standing talking. Steve smiled when he looked at you, “You look... interesting.”

“Shut it, Rogers.”

“I mean, it definitely works because I look at you and I don’t see (y/n), I see a complete stranger,” Sam offered.

“You ready?” Steve asked softly, taking the bags from you, “Got everything?” You nodded, murmuring a ‘think so’. He smiled and pulled an envelope out of his back pocket, “I wrote this letter this morning. I want you to read it when it’s time...” Your confused expression made him explain further, “I want you to read this letter when you start to feel things... things for Bucky. If that happens.” You took a breath, mind whirring with the possible things that could be in that letter,  “You’ll know when to read it.”

It was then that there was a knock on the door. Sam answered it to see Bucky Barnes standing wearing a cap and, you guessed it, sunglasses. He wore leather gloves to cover his metal hand and carried a bag over his shoulder. He lifted the sunglasses to look at you, “Ready?”

Oh god, it’s happening.

“I don’t want to cry because I’m scared of the contact lenses,” you whimpered as tears threatened to fall. You hugged Nat and Sam, thanking them for their help, before Steve said that he’d walk out with you both. He picked up your bags and the three of you left the apartment to the black car that was outside. Bucky packed the three bags in the trunk before hugging Steve.

You couldn’t hear what the two of them said in the brief encounter but you supposed that it would be Bucky reassuring Steve that you’d be safe and that he wouldn’t act on any feelings that may grow. Steve clapped him on the shoulder and Bucky got into the driver’s seat of the car.

Steve turned to you and wrapped you in his arms. God, you just wanted to cry. You wished that you didn’t have to go, you wished that you could just stay with him but you couldn’t. You had to leave. They’d already gotten to you once and Steve wouldn’t dare let it happen again.

“I love you,” you told him softly, “I love you so much, Steve. I-I love you.”

He held you tighter, “I love you, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll get this sorted so that you can come home to me.” You pulled back and he brushed your cheek, wiping your tear gently, “No matter what happens, it’s okay.” You hugged him again before he leaned down and kissed you softly. Bucky, who had been watching in the rear view mirror, looked away, “Goodbye, (y/n).”

“Goodbye, Steve.” He opened your car door and you slid inside.

“Thank you, Buck,” Steve said, clearing his throat, “Be safe.” He closed the door and Bucky started the engine, pulling out of the apartment complex. Your eyes were trained on the spot where Steve was, watching as he got smaller and smaller until you couldn’t see him anymore. It was only when he was out of sight that you allowed yourself to really break. Fuck the contact lenses, I’m too sad to care. 

Bucky glanced at you as he drove, feeling a pang of sadness for you as you wept in the seat beside him. He knew that part of the reason you were so upset was because it was him that was taking you, had he not been your soulmate you would have probably been okay but because he was your soulmate, it filled you to the brim with worry, guilt and pure sadness. All he could do was drive. Nothing he could say could help you. He reached to his side, taking a pack of tissues from the door’s compartment before handing them to you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, taking them from him. He couldn’t do much to help but he had done enough to make you feel comforted and to make you feel as though you weren’t alone. You wiped your eyes as you stared out of the window, wondering where the next few weeks would take you.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Fireworks

Prompt: Okay, I might be a bit late, but in honor of America being, well, America, could I request a Virgil hurt/comfort where he gets freaked out by the fireworks? Love your writing btw - anon

I've been experimenting with shorter form prose and I kinda like it???

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: platonic dlampr

Word Count: 1000

Virgil doesn’t hate the Fourth of July except yes he absolutely fucking does.

No, he’s not gonna do the whole rant, that takes too long, most people who are on Tumblr already know it by heart, we’ve been there, done that, no need to beat a dead horse.

No there isn’t, Remus, put that down.

The point is Virgil likes the Fourth of July not one little bit mostly because it’s gaudy. Come on, the oversaturated red-white-and-blue? Eugh. Princey can pull off red the way he does because he’s Roman and Patton can pull off country-club-dad vibes without trying. Logan doesn’t like the Fourth either so he’s in no danger from that navy getting corrupted by gross displays of patriotic affection. The most they ever get from Logan is his ‘I Voted’ button which is perfect and all they need. Janus is yellow and more on the hating-the-Fourth trend than Virgil is. Solidarity.

Remus just likes the excuse to throw hot dogs and mustard at people. Sure.

Patton likes the Fourth because it’s a good way to spend time as a family, allegedly. It’s not like they have another choice, not with the way everyone wants to get together to celebrate. The man isn’t allowed near the grill. That’s the rule. Which is fine, just distract him enough for the cooking to be over and done with and everything’s fine.

Roman…also doesn’t really like the Fourth, but he does like the excuse to sing. Really loudly. Eh, Princey can actually sing, so it’s fine. And he will come and hide with Virgil in some out-of-the-way corner so they can complain about other people.

Logan gets into political fights.

Yes, you heard that right.

It’s not pretty.

Well, when everyone’s a little tipsier than normal and Virgil can stand to be around people he normally hates just to watch Logan fucking annihilate them, it’s pretty fucking satisfying.

Just dodge the hot dogs and keep Janus from running his mouth too much, that’s the deal.

No, the part he really hates is when it gets dark.

Fireworks are awful. He’ll say it. Sure, from a chemistry and marketing standpoint, they’re great. Fantastic. Continue to exploit the planet for temporary momentary and aesthetic appeal, sure.

He loathes the damn things. They’re so fucking loud.

And you never know exactly when they’re going to go off.

And the whole fucking day is just a lead-up to those fucking things, so if you leave before they happen or while they’re happening, everyone will talk about it. Oh, where’d you go? You missed the best part! Come back, the fireworks are starting, we can’t leave until they’re done. Just stay ‘till the end of the show, it’ll be fine.

No, no he will not.

So when he’s half-heartedly swatted at half a dozen mosquitos and sat down in a chair that had soda spilled onto it and threatens to buckle under his weight—thanks for those additional body issues, you limp cardboard excuse for furniture—he grits his teeth and tries to pull out his headphones as stealthily as he can. He’s learned from having his phones slapped out of his hands, or worse, confiscated, by too many haughty relatives that if he wants to try and protect himself when they start to go off, he’s got to do it carefully.

Not too carefully that his phone dies and his headphones won’t connect, though!

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, “shit, shit, shit—“

He glances around. No way he’s getting out of here. No way. He’s trapped. He’s stuck. No way out. He’s going to have to stay here. They’re about to go off at any second and he’s stuck, nowhere to go, nothing to do, nothing to distract him—

Of course, he’s overlooked one thing. And that is that nothing happens to him without the others noticing.

So when Roman and Remus start loudly bickering about how hot it is and Roman flounces his way back inside with Remus chasing after him, he misses the look they exchange and the way Roman veers slightly to the left to crash into one of the rudest aunts they have.

He misses the way Logan discreetly pockets the last snack pack for Virgil as he stands, muttering excuses about keeping the twins in line.

He misses the way Janus carefully scoops him up, doing it in a clever way to make it look like Virgil is the one doing the leading as they scoot toward the door.

He misses the way Patton nods as Janus raises an eyebrow, distracting would-be worriers—real and fake—with thank-you’s and well-wishes and promises they won’t remember by morning.

He does remember the soft thud of the car door and the instant muffling of all the noises.

He does remember the way Roman’s hand cards through his hair and guides it to his shoulder, humming a song under his breath as Remus takes his hand and starts playing with it.

He does remember Patton turning the radio on low as Logan begins to navigate them home, Janus behind the wheel as he glances at Virgil in the back seat.

Roman softly asks if he thinks he can make it up the stairs home, helping him to the couch and placing the noise-canceling headphones over his ears. Remus plugs them into the headphone jack and hands the phone to Virgil before tugging Roman to help get the blankets set up.

Logan finds the documentary and they sit, opening his arms to welcome Virgil down with them. Janus and Patton bring the snacks in from the kitchen as Janus curls Virgil’s hand around the snack pack.

As the documentary plays, Virgil leans his head onto Patton’s shoulder and smiles.

He hates the Fourth, he loves his family.

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[ophiuchus-interactive]

In My Time of Need (MAJOR ANGST)

This is too long and too juicy of an ask to let it be just a common RO ask,

So! I'm going to be doing a mini-series answering this ask with all of the ROs!

Valerian is first! Now, remember, this is torture!

TW: Angst, blood, gore, torture!

Under the cut!

The prison cell looked akin to a tomb. Water leaking from the ceiling above your head, dripping through the stone brick and splattering against the aged, bloodied floor. Your hands were held in rusted, metal cuffs that were connected to the ceiling through chains. Valerian was in a similar state- only with him, his right eye was completely swollen shut. You wonder with a vague, passing thought if his eye dislodged from its position- or if it could be used at all anymore.

His breath was labored, heavy. The tell-tale rattle that echoed in his heavy gasps of air was a sign of broken ribs. The fierce, inky purple that took shape against his chest made sure of such an injury. A possibly permanent one.

They had beaten him within an inch of his life. The twisted, sinking feeling in your stomach was telling you that they weren't quite done yet.

In the darkness of the cells, you heard a large, metal door swing wide open, hitting the walls with enough force to make you jump. The clattering of your chains rang loudly in your ears, followed by the cacophonous, clobbering footsteps of your captors.

"He will not speak, commander. If we beat the whelp anymore without medical treatment, he will die,"

"He's not uttered a word?"

Silence.

A beat. Your heart is in your throat.

"...No, Commander. Nothing."

"'cause..." Valerian speaks up suddenly, his speech slurred by the blood the collected in his mouth, clogging his throat, "y'all dumb sons of bitches who can't....throw a fuckin' punch."

Your captors came into view. Their cloaked appearances giving you little to go off of as to their identity. Too tall for a Harpii. Too short for a Kal'Morran. They don't hiss their words- but something in the back of your mind makes you think they aren't exactly human.

"You know," The one called 'commander' says, " there is one thing I can never understand about your kind, captain. Do you know what that is?"

You watched- with a vague sense of astonishment- Valerian try his best to smile. You noticed teeth missing.

"What we're all better lookin' than you?"

Though you couldn't see it, you can imagine the Commander clenching his teeth, practically grinding them down to the gums,

"No. It is your aptitude for pain. In my experience, experimenting on the wide range of races that this universe, unfortunately, places in my hands for disposal, humans have always had a peculiar knack for...endurance."

The Commander chuckles, the action was enough to make your blood run cold, "True enough, I suppose. Humans have always been much more productive in experimenting than...well. Let's just say I don't think the two of you would do too well chained to our mining pits, living out the rest of your pathetically short lives harnessing the exact ore it is we will destroy you all with."

There was an audible smack to his lips, and then an almost dreamlike sigh, "Though the irony would be exquisite, indeed."

"Come 'ere to...talk, then?" Valerian coughs. The chains echo every harsh seize of his dry, bloodied throat, "I...stopped payin' attention right around the time you started...spewin' shit again."

You could practically feel the harsh and frigid stare the Commander was given Valerian. It was enough to make you swallow the lump that rose in your throat- a feeling of true fear.

"Grab the other one, Lieutenant."

"What?!" Valerian roars, his voice broken and scratched from his own screams, "You damned sonuva- they've got hell all to do with this! Leave 'em alone!"

Valerian's protests fall on deaf ears, the Lieutenant grabbing the chains that held your arms high in the air and release them from the hook- causing you to fall face-first into the floor.

Pain. White-hot, exploding pain burst like fireworks inside your skull. You felt blood pour freely from your nose; your forehead in enough agony to make you assume it was cracked.

You were pulled forward by the shackles that they hung you by, feeling every stray piece of stone and gravel embed themselves in your skin, burning the layers until it was raw, exposed.

The Lieutenant pulled you up from the floor, your blood trickling down the sides of your mouth and lips. Nausea began as your whole world started to spin. There was only one thought in your mind as you felt bile rise in your throat:

This was only the beginning.

"Come now, Captain, surely you can be reasonable? A member of your crew is about to be severely beaten. Their bones will break. Their skin will grow into that dark, nasty shade of purple- and you will have caused it. You will have caused their suffering.

Unless of course, you tell us precisely what it is we want, right now."

Silence.

And for that you were grateful. You and Valerian both know that not a word can be spoken of this. No matter what the cost.

"...Don't," You can hear Valerian say softly. Quietly. All that vibrato he had once before has been thrown to the side; all at once, he was a completely different person, "don't hurt them."

"I don't think you have much of a say in the matter, Captain. Either you start talking or I get to practice my hand combat- the ones that you abhor?"

"Don't- don't tell them shit, Val," You say as evenly as you can muster, "not a goddamn thing!"

CRACK!

It was the sound that came before the feeling- the force of a thick, gloved hand connecting with your side was enough to cause your body to forget how to breathe. You panicked as the pain blossomed into downright torment, your lungs being unable to catch up with the now broken pieces of your ribcage. You were left drowning in the dry, empty air.

"MC!"

"I'm going to give you one more chance, Captain. I suggest you take my words over your companion's- tell me everything. Every last shred of detail, and I will spare you both this pain."

Silence.

Do you think you hear a sob?

"Tch. Pathetic. Do you hold the silence above the people you're supposed to protect? What kind of a captain are you?"

"Stop! Please, stop, kill me- hurt me, anything but them-!"

"You do not get to beg like a diseased dog for a choice, Captain!" The Commander spits, his fury unable to be contained any longer, "Speak one more word that's not what I want, and I'll beat your companion until they're bloody, grey-mattered pulp on the floor!"

Silence.

A clatter. You think it was a tool. A hammer?

It doesn't take long for you to find out, however, as with a furious snarl, the hammer was slammed down upon the palm of your hand. You felt the bones in your hand crack under the force, the sheer magnitude of the assault was enough to make tears run down your face, and cry. Your nerves burned like fire, your body screaming for relief, and you know you won't be receiving any form of it. So this was true pain.

The world around you faded in and out of spotty darkness that threatened to consume your view, and you were afraid. Was this it? This- this can't be it. You needed to be awake, alive, you needed to see Valerian again.

But the darkness grew, and your air slowed down, and despite the chaos, the horror, you heard only one thing.

Silence.

A welcomed reprieve. An escape.

For now.

[strxnged]

isosceles.

-> NISHINOYA X READER, TANAKA X READER

AN: you always hated geometry. trigonometry sucked. love triangles were even worse, since there was no right answer. wc: 1k. genre: mainly angst lol. tropes: best friends to lovers. but not.

Nishinoya Yuu, who, after five years, only now finally confessing to you with brilliant eyes and shaking hands, was now sure he would not regret this. It was only thanks to the steadfast encouragement of the third person in your trio, the supportive and convinced Tanaka Ryuunosuke, whose assured evidence he pointed out to Nishinoya had been what had really gotten him here. Nishinoya had been buttered up and pressured and encouraged and everything that could be thought of to get him to finally be honest with you; but the main thing Nishinoya had needed to hear had been that the three of yours’ relationship would not be ruined because of this, and that change was good, and that you obviously felt the same. Why, remember that night at the festival in third-year, when you and Nishinoya had gotten stuck together? Hadn’t there been a moment between you, like Nishinoya’d said before? And — the glances you gave Tanaka that Nishinoya’d missed that surely meant that you were pleading for help. Because you were so flustered, of course. By Noya. You were clearly as in love with Nishinoya Yuu as he was with you. So, Tanaka’d told Nishinoya several times, nothing would be changing because you were already as in love with each other as ever. Your never-ending friendship of inscriptions on high school benches and three a.m. convenience store runs and relentless antics and laughter and peace would continue. Maybe a little differently, if — when — you and Nishinoya became exclusive to one another, but your feelings towards each other wouldn’t change. When he glanced back at Tanaka one last time before taking a deep breath and smiling and finally saying how he felt, when he saw the slight surprise in your eyes, and the tears — of joy? You were smiling. You looked away. He was sure that he would not regret this.

Tanaka Ryuunosuke, who’d helped his friend reach his goal and learned how to contain his own emotions, had always slightly manipulated his own memories so that he wouldn’t allow himself to doubt his actions. Knowing that this was the best for your group because he knew he would be able to hold himself together despite how much it hurt, but it would not work the same for Nishinoya were the roles reversed. Tanaka ignored his own yearning, pushing back the memories of searching for you that night at the festival in third-year, the way every muscle of his body worked to find you, and how the eighteen-year-old’s tears had streamed from his face as he ran in the dark past happy couples and snacks and the booming fireworks, as sweat had felt like blood as he ran all the way to your spot as a last resort only to find you and him, you and Nishinoya. Him holding you. Seeing you in tears. The pain in his gut, knowing he’d already lost. He’d have to take in a breath every minute and exhale those emotions and pray they’d never return. Instead, he’d smile and convince his friend not to wait a second more, because — well, because he’d never have the chance himself. Maybe it would be better not to, but then he wouldn’t get to see you happy either. Because you were clearly as in love with Nishonoya Yuu as he was with you — and you loved Tanaka as a friend. He’d be okay, he’d wasted just as much time and this would be his punishment. Five years of loving you and watching his two best friends become a perfect couple. When Nishinoya confessed, his voice breaking and a smile evident in his tone, when you looked away from him to Tanaka’s eyes just as you’d done many times before, suddenly the doubts poured into his mind just as the tears poured from your eyes. And suddenly he knew that from now on he wouldn’t be able to manipulate his memories for his best friend’s sake.

And you, caught between two choices. To accept Nishinoya’s feelings and keep both of your friends, or to break both their hearts. Because when Nishinoya’s anxious confession fell from his mouth, expression waiting impatiently for you to reply in the way he’d obviously been convinced you would, you didn’t know what to do but gaze at the person you did love, and had loved for years. You would have to suffer either way, just as you had for years. Because you knew no matter what you did, you and Tanaka could not be together without ruining the friendship between the three of you. You weren’t sure about his feelings, but it was clear they mattered more to you than they did to either of the others, from their not-so-secretive behaviour. Who wouldn’t cry in this situation, knowing that you’d have to crush both of their hopes or your own? Because you’d loved the wrong guy, it was all your fault. Why had you fallen for the selfless, more patient one? They were so similar; perhaps you should just try things out with Noya and maybe your feelings would change. But as you glanced back at Noya, his face perfect to you as it always had been, but — just not in that way — your heart drummed. And in the back of your mind, all you could think about was that day at the festival, when you’d nearly told him your feelings only to run off in fear and end up being comforted by the wrong guy. It had been like a condemnation, that you would never escape the choice. Because you were caught between two horrible, awful decisions, both sure to cause all three of you pain.

AN: ooh okay i'm in pain. i'm

NAVIGATION

[lovelybarnes]

second choice- bucky b.

a/n: dhakhd i can never write good endings

pairings: bucky barnes x natasha romanoff, bucky barnes x reader

warnings: death, angst

about: no, you're not his second chance, you're his second choice

it had been a month. exactly one month since natasha sacrificed herself for the world and you lost your best friend, wondering exactly how much the world meant to you without her in it. without steve, and tony, and loki.

you were convinced it didn’t mean all that much for you at the moment, and tried to wave away another flitting thought that it should’ve been you. because the beautiful souls the world lost were so much more important than yours- at least that’s what you told yourself.

you weren't one to bring yourself down, not anymore. it was a long, hard road to get to where you were. happy, secure, not as confident as you would like, but confident. you knew you were important, the face of the little girl you saved once a constant reminder that you were. the giggle of the baby of the woman you had helped off the ledge, and the smile of the ten- year- old boy you saw every morning as you went to get your coffee, the boy that you rescued.

you knew your worth. you simply thought natasha had more. that tony had more, that loki had more (even against horribly popular opinion). so, yes, you wished that you had been the one that jumped off the ledge, the one that snapped their fingers, or the one that was brave enough (and, yes, possibly a little naive) to face thanos with only a blade.

you missed steve, but you understood. even when you didn’t, you did, and it brought you a sense of comfort you didn’t want.

bucky and natasha started dating long after you began to have feelings for him. you never told natasha, although you doubted anything would’ve changed if you had. it was cruel fate, truly, seeing your soulmate and the man you loved together. you couldn’t even hate his girlfriend, she was the best person you knew. so, you settled being the third wheel, the kiss bucky needed to get back into his senses and realize he loved natasha. the shoulder they both came to when the other wasn’t available. the second choice.

you weren’t even mad when you realized that was what you were. you understood.

another cruel understanding you didn’t want.

bucky was everything. he was the moon and the sun and the stars and the clouds. he was the flowers and the butterflies. he was everything.

but you were nothing, not to him, not compared to natasha.

it was truly a cutthroat realization that you loved him, you felt so stupid. how could you let yourself fall for his smile? his smell and his laugh? the crinkles around his eyes when he was happy? the tears that slid from his face and onto your shirt? how could you ever let yourself fall for the love of your life? correction- the love of your best friend’s life.

natasha deserved him. truly, she did, you knew that. he made her happy and she made him, and they both deserved happiness. true, wonderful, blissful happiness that made them high on nothing but each other.

but, god, did it hurt.

the kiss bucky pressed on your lips meant so much more to you than it did him. natasha and him had gotten into an ugly fight, where natasha had gone to get solace from a stranger at the bar, while bucky came to you.

bucky was pacing, hands tangled in his hair and his eyebrows crinkled in a way you found so beautiful.

your hands had held him steady, your lips saying soft, gentle, comforting words, and he had stared at you.

he told you you looked so pretty like that, in your t- shirt with no makeup, and he kissed you.

your body had lit up with fireworks, and you knew you should pull away. but he was tugging you closer and the smell that was purely him was making you dizzy. his lips were soft and cracked and beautiful. perfect and imperfect wrapped into perfect bucky barnes. his hands were on your waist, and he had pressed you against him so there wasn’t a millimeter of space between the two of you.

he told you it was a mistake the next morning, when he and natasha had made up.

one thing you realized quickly was that they got into a lot of fights. breaking up for at most a week before coming back to each other, fucking each other's brains out each time.

he always came to you before, though. he hugged you and pulled you to him when you were watching a movie on the couch. he would brush feather light kisses to your cheeks, and your forehead, and sometimes your lips. he made his goal to make you laugh and he always did because you would do anything he asked.

you hated yourself because you were putty in his hands, because he threw you away again each time he got back together with natasha. because she was your best friend and you were lying next to her on and off love.

you didn't care, as naive and painful as it was, the few moments you had with bucky when nat wasn't around were your favorite.

it was stupid.

you were stupid.

you didn't care.

natasha and bucky said i love you for the first time right before they went into battle with thanos. they held hands and nat screamed when he dusted.

you held her together with the pieces of tape you used to keep yourself together, and it wasn't very long before you started to break apart.

you were really surprised nobody had found out about your crush, seeing as there were so many soldiers, spies, geniuses and mutants constantly around you.

wanda was the hardest. your emotions and thoughts were so loud. especially about bucky.

she found out at some point, though, because she started to look at you with a worried look on her face that made you want to rip your hair out.

she knew you were crumbling, only pieces of yourself now.

it was you and natasha who decided to try and get them back, not ready to give up, never ready to give up on bucky and them.

the only reason you hadn't gone with nat to get the soul stone was because you went with thor and rocket. nobody trusted either of them enough and so you were the babysitter. it was fun though, until you got back and realized your life was gone.

you hated yourself, seeing as, if you had gone with her, maybe it would've been you. and she would've stayed in the world she finally found her place in. you were sure of that, too (again, cruel information), considering she told you countless times you were her soulmate. yes, she loved bucky. he was the love of her life, but you were it for her. she could grow old with you and only you because she loved you so much.

you loved her. she was, as she put it (like you did as well), your soulmate. it was such a beautiful and bitter thing. the fact that you were the exact same and she didn't know. you were more similar than she thought, and it was horrible.

but she was it for clint, too, though. unfortunately.

when bucky came back, you sobbed. tears ran through your face fast and hard and mercilessly. because you missed him so much but natasha was gone and you were in turmoil. he locked himself in his room alone for two days, then he let you in. you stayed with him for two weeks, during which he allowed steve in. then, steve left and he stayed in his room with you some more, until he was as okay as he could be. he grieved natasha with you, then steve. he grieved some more when you left for asgard, and then, somehow, he was okay. he had accepted the deaths and it was flabbergasting to you. you didn't complain, you could never. not about bucky.

after ten months, he told you he loved you. you had stared at him as the words you always yearned to hear slipped out of his perfect mouth in his velvet voice.

"y/n. you're my second chance. i think the universe or something finally realized how fucked up it's been for me and it gave me you," you didn't understand. you had been here this whole time.

"it gave me 'tasha, then it took her away, but, you- god, y/n. you're my second chance."

your heart had heard what it had been craving, but, you shook your head.

"no,” you whispered, blinking fast. “i'm your second choice.”

you were the person bucky went to when he couldn’t be with natasha, and you would’ve settled for that before, but not anymore.

“i'm not your second chance, bucky. i'm your second choice. it’s always been like this and i get it, okay? nat was amazing. she was beautiful and badass and perfect for you. i’m the step down and i get it. but that doesn’t mean i want to be."

bucky had stared at you as he realized you were right, and he hated himself for it.

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Blood ties (Fred Weasley)

request: “I was wondering if you could write a Fred Weasley x reader imagine. Where they dated back in school but before he left with George, he dumped her to keep her safe. (Because he and his family were in the order and a big target, and he wanted her safe) but she was pregnant with twins! So after the war years later (Fred lives, as he should) one of the twins gets sick, where they need blood because one of the twins got hurt. so the reader has to go to Fred for help and he’s shocked. Maybe the surgery comes out fine, cute happy family ending!”

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

word count: 1130

warnings: angst with a fluffy ending

a/n: Finally I got to write about Freddie! I kept the description about the surgery vague as I don’t have any medical knowledge nor was I ever in a similar situation so I tried to avoid writing something stupid, I hope it’s not too vague to the point where it’s annoying. 

As always, feedback encouraged! 💖

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

You were sat in the muggle hospital corridor late in the evening, after having a conversation with the main doctor. She told you your precious 3-year-old needed surgery. For them to be able to perform it however, they needed blood first – blood you couldn’t provide.

You did not cry, you couldn’t. Your emotions were set aside by your motherly will to do anything for your baby. And there was only one solution, after the healers at St. Mungo’s failed you.

You and Fred met at Hogwarts. You were only friends in the beginning when you were both figuring out what kind of people you were going to be, but after a few years something clicked and you were in love.

You complemented each other and Fred always claimed you brought out the best of him. You never tried to tame him, but having the walking firework that was Fred Weasley come to you with his troubles, open up about his emotions or demand you just cuddle him made you appreciate his love even more.

He often told you how much you meant to him or how much he loved you, even on the day you last saw him, when he broke up with you.

He had expressed his disinterest in staying in school before that day. At first, you didn’t think he was truly serious, you just told him there’s only a bit more left, and he should have a ‘plan B’ no matter how much you believed in his success – hope for the best, prepare for the worst – but each time he was more determined.

In the end, you came to terms with it, so when he came to explain how they would cause a distraction for Harry and leave Hogwarts, you said “It’s just a couple months. I’ll be fine, and then we’ll see each other again.”

But then he said you wouldn’t. He tried explaining how it’s out of love, that when the war comes his family will be the target and he wouldn’t bring you down with him – but you weren’t really listening. After you realized he was serious, an overwhelming mix of emotions pulled you out of reality. And then he was gone.

It wasn’t long after when you found out you were pregnant. With twins. But you stayed true to his will and didn’t contact him and stayed hidden with your own family after you graduated. Telling your parents was not easy, but they were a massive help.

When the war ended you thought about him in moments of weakness. All was safe and he could meet little Emily and Ethan, both a perfect mix of you two, but after three years it seemed so hard. You didn’t know if seeing him would make all of your feelings come crashing back when he may have already moved on – after all, he hadn’t contacted you either. But you had no choice now, no matter what would happen, you just hoped he would feel some kind of obligation to help his biological daughter.

 Deciding not to waste any more time, the next morning you left the twins with your mum and headed to Diagon Alley 93. You opened the door with your hands shaking and stepped inside the crowded shop.

You recognized him from the back as he was talking to an employee, his posture so different from George’s. Almost mechanically you walked up, your mind in overdrive, and at that moment he turned around.

You must’ve been pale, you felt faint. His expression was shocked and his mouth slightly open.

“Hello, Fred.” you managed to get out. “Y/N.. hi,” he said, collecting himself a bit. “I have to talk to you,” you said the line you practised in your mind when you couldn’t fall asleep last night. “Oh- ok..” he shifted in spot, nodded and led you to the currently empty apartment above.

The inside of it smelled familiar, even if you’ve never been there before.

“Do you want anything to drink? Should I make some tea?” He said a bit awkwardly, not sure what one was supposed to do in that kind of situation. “No, thank you.”

You went into the lounge room and sat down on the sofa, you looked down at your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. Fred wanted to ask how you’ve been, and tell you how happy he was to see you, and he would have, were you not clearly troubled. “Are you alright..? Did something happen?” he asked, worry evident in his tone. This convinced you to finally look into his eyes properly, and he was looking at you the same way as before he left. 

“There’s something I have to tell you. And I don’t know how, so I’m just going to say it.” You took a deep breath looking down again. “I need your help, Fred. Shortly after you left Hogwarts I found out I was pregnant. I gave birth to twins and I raised them on my own but now Emily needs surgery-“ you paused to sniffle, tears fighting their way into your eyes, “they couldn’t help her at St. Mungo’s, I had to do something. I’ve taken her to a muggle hospital but they need a bl-blood donation and I- I can’t do it, and I need your help” you were sobbing by the time you finished and Fred was speechless. This was a lot of information to take and seeing you in this state was breaking his heart that still belonged to you.

He moved to your side and wrapped his arms around you, thankful you didn’t push him away. “Please..” you whispered between sobs. “Shhh…” he whispered in your ear and held you a little tighter, stroking your head and back calmingly as you hugged him back.

The time it took you to calm down he used to digest all the news. “I’ll do anything I can to help and everything’s gonna be alright, don’t worry.” he said softly. “Thank you… I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner, but-“ “I get it, don’t worry.” You pulled away, suddenly conscious about how close you were as you remembered why you haven’t told him, but one of his hands stayed on your lower back. “You said they were twins? What’s the other’s name?” You smiled a little, “Ethan.”

Fred visited you three the next day. You were happy to see the toddlers warm up to him quickly and him trying so hard even when they were being difficult. And you were so thankful to have Fred by your side during the following weeks, during Emily’s surgery and as she was getting better. It also gave you the chance to talk everything through, realize nothing was standing between you now and the love you once shared was still there, perhaps even stronger than before.

And you couldn’t help the warmth you felt in your heart seeing Fred and the twins asleep, cuddling in the bedroom you shared with him, and you couldn’t be upset – even if you worked so hard before to get them used to sleeping in their own beds. So you stood there against the doorway for a bit, admiring your family and absentmindedly playing with the ring on your left hand finger.

[refinedbuffoonery]

Quarantine Moments (14)

Soooooo this started as me vibing to a Halsey song and then it turned into angst. Oops. Sorry. 

Also, in case you missed the announcement earlier this week, this is the last QM. I’ve had so much fun writing these, but it’s time to move on to new things. :)

*****

It’s a quiet night in the MacGyver household. 

Mac lays on the couch, practicing the ukulele. Bozer and Riley are in their respective rooms, doing their own thing. As much as he loves them, Mac has to admit it’s nice having some alone time. 

His fingers land on the wrong strings, and the resulting chord grates on his ears. 

Progress is coming slowly, to say the least. 

Riley shuffles into the kitchen and fills a glass of water for herself. Using her presence as an excuse to pause his increasingly frustrating playing, Mac studies Riley’s posture. Her shoulders cave inward, and she shifts her weight back and forth, from one leg to the other. When Riley turns around, Mac notices the heavy expression in her eyes. 

Something is wrong. 

They hold eye contact for a few seconds, saying nothing. It’s almost as if Riley is trying to convey her thoughts without actually speaking. 

Mac wishes he could understand her. Usually he can. But this look...he can’t pinpoint what it means. 

“C’mon,” Riley beckons. “Let’s go for a drive.” 

Mac frowns, checking the time. “Now? It’s almost ten.” 

“Let’s go,” she repeats. Crossing the distance to the couch, Riley lowers her voice. “Bozer needs some space. I accidentally walked in on him while he was on the phone.” The heavy look in her eyes suddenly makes sense. 

“His mom?” 

“Mac—” Riley lowers her gaze. “She’s...she’s not doing well.” 

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, sitting up. Bozer’s mom is the closest thing Mac has to a mother. She certainly raised him like he was her own. 

Riley squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll drive. Does your truck have gas? Mine’s almost out.” 

Still thinking about Bozer’s mom, Mac almost doesn’t hear her. “Yeah,” he belatedly stutters. Closing his eyes and taking a few deep, steadying breaths, Mac pulls on a pair of sneakers and follows Riley out the door. 

It feels good to leave the house.

Riley winds her way through the city streets, turning periodically but generally heading west. Mac’s beach playlist plays softly through the speakers. The roads are empty, which still shocks Mac even after two months of lockdown. Even late at night, there’s usually people on the road. The eerie stillness of his city is unnerving. It’s usually pulsing with life, not...whatever this is. 

A ghost-town, perhaps. Haunted by the memory of the diverse, vibrant beings that once inhabited it. 

“Did you hear anything else?” he asks, referring to Bozer’s phone call. 

Regret flashes in Riley’s eyes. “No. I left as soon as I realized who he was talking to.” 

After a few more turns, they’re in a part of town Mac isn’t familiar with, and he can’t stop himself from asking, “Where are you taking me?” He knows the difference between Riley aimlessly driving and when she has a destination in mind, and this is definitely the latter. 

“My spot.” 

.

They end up at the beach. 

Riley rolls down her window partway, and the smell of saltwater and seaweed wafts in on the gentle breeze. The lights of a ship glimmer in the distance; it’s big, maybe a cargo ship or an aircraft carrier. 

There’s something soothing about being near the ocean, Mac thinks, like all his troubles will be washed out to sea with the receding tide. 

There’s a lot he’d like to wash away.

Mac exhales with each wave's retreat, letting his thoughts and emotions go with it, one by one. After a few minutes, Mac feels lighter than he has in days. "Thanks for getting me out of the house," he says. "I know it wasn't your intention, but I needed this."

"You're welcome." Riley glances at him and looks away, biting her lip. Something flickers in her eyes, just for a second, but it’s gone before Mac can figure out what it is. 

“So, I heard a good joke today,” Mac says. 

“Oh really? Where’d you hear it?” 

“On my run. The teenage boys on the corner were practicing their stand-up comedy routine in the front yard again.” 

Riley smiles. “Let’s hear it.” 

Mac takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself so he doesn’t start laughing before he lands the punchline. “What did the fish say when it hit the wall?” 

Riley makes a show of thinking for a second. “I don’t know. What?” 

“Dam.” 

Riley tips her head back and laughs, the sound loud and full of life. Tendrils of warmth curl in Mac’s insides, taking up residence in the shadowed corners of his soul. He’s been thinking about that joke all day, waiting for the right moment to tell her. 

Because Riley is the first person he wanted to tell, not Bozer or Desi or anyone else. 

Just Riley. 

She’s still laughing as her gaze catches his, and her raw, unguarded expression sends a chill down Mac’s spine. 

Sometimes Mac lets himself think about what it could be like if that wall between them wasn’t there. 

She’d consume him, in every way possible. And he’d gladly let her. 

But that wall is there. It’s been there since the day they met, and Mac respects her too much to poke holes in it. Maybe it’s a good thing. With the wall there to block sparks and fireworks, they developed a quiet rhythm of love and care, and Mac wouldn’t trade that for the world. 

If he let himself love her, really love her, there would be no going back from that, no returning to the way things are now. Either they’d be it for each other—be the one—or they’d wreck each other too thoroughly to ever be just friends again. So even if the wall came down, in a future where Desi is out of the picture, Mac would think twice before crossing that line with Riley. 

And he knows she would too. 

But that wall is there, Mac reminds himself again, and he and Desi are trying to make their relationship work. And as for Riley...

Riley will always be the “what if” he never got the chance to answer. 

Mac can live with that. He doesn’t have a choice, really. 

*****

Riley didn’t think about where was going. She just let her hands and feet take her where she needed to go, and it’s only in the comfortable quiet after Mac tells his stupid joke that Riley realizes what she’s done. 

“I’ve never taken anyone here before,” she confesses suddenly. Riley found this lesser-known beach access point in high school, not long after getting her driver’s license. Her spot has always been a quiet place she could escape to when she needed to avoid the real world for a while. It has always been there for her—when Riley was mad or sad or frustrated, or when she just needed some alone time to think. 

Mac snaps his head up in surprise. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” Riley looks away. She wants to tell him, but she can’t bring herself to do it while he’s looking at her like that. “Though, I almost took Aubrey here once.” 

“What stopped you?” 

“I chickened-out at the last minute. I thought I was ready to share it with him, but there was this little voice in my head telling me to keep this place to myself. So I kept driving. I parked in the lot a couple miles south and said that was my spot.” Riley avoids thinking about what it might mean that she didn’t think twice about bringing Mac.

There’s a long pause, and then Mac says, “Thank you for sharing this with me. You didn’t have to. And for the record, even if you had told me about your spot, I never would’ve asked you to bring me here if you didn’t want to.” 

It takes a couple tries to swallow the lump in her throat. “I think Aubrey knew I was lying,” Riley deflects. “So I made out with him long enough for him to forget, and he never brought it up later.” She picks at her nails. The dark gray polish is chipping; she’ll have to repaint them soon. “That was the only thing I ever lied to him about. Besides work stuff, of course. And we know how that turned out.” 

The stench of seaweed and decay fills her nostrils. Riley focuses on it—anything to distract her from the scent of Mac’s laundry detergent. It’s plagued her ever since moving in with him after breaking up with Aubrey. The scent she’s long associated with safety and her friend—and now the person she has unrequited feelings for—follows her everywhere, since her clothes smell like it too. Most days Riley can ignore it, but sometimes....sometimes it feels like torture. 

And right now, at her special spot, in his truck, wearing clothes that smell like him, it all feels like a mockery of what Riley wants and can never have. 

Once, just this once, she lets herself imagine it anyway. 

They’re on another drive, just like this one. It starts with stolen glances, then she switches to driving with one hand so the other can rest innocently on the center console, and soon enough, Mac’s fingers slip between hers. 

Then they’re parked at Riley’s spot, and his lips are on her neck, trailing light kisses across her throat. They get a little carried away, marking skin and untucking shirts, and a murmured Let’s get out of here has Riley speeding home so they can continue this in private. 

Riley shivers. Taking a deep breath, she tucks the fantasy into the far corner of her mind for safe keeping. Riley knows she should just let it go. There’s only so long she can sit in the silence, waiting for a sign and wondering if kissing him would really ruin everything they already have. 

Riley finally dares to glance at Mac again. He’s already looking at her, still wearing that soft expression from before. It’s enough to make her wonder, what if? 

What if he’s everything she ever wanted? 

But what if she loses everything instead? 

[damn-stark]

Moon

Remus Lupin x Lupin!reader (platonic)

Requested by anon “im absolutely in love with your writing. I myself wanted to do a similar idea for this request but i sadly don’t have time! I was thinking maybe the reader could be the daughter of remus? Or perhaps adopted? You can choose a love interest if needed, but I just need some remus + reader being father + daughter excellence.”

A/N- hope you all like it :) also no love interest hope that’s okay, just decided to focus on their daughter and father relationship :)

Warning- fluff and just pure fluff, some angst

———-

“Well I think it’s going to go great,” you reassure your father as you walk out of the shop, smiling as you felt the warm rising sun kissing your sun. “Even if you are going to be my professor. Maybe that’s not as great.”

Your father laughs softly as he instinctively hands you a piece of chocolate. “I think that's the best part, we get to spend more time together.”

You shrug, “until they start teasing me.”

His hand wraps around your shoulders so he could pull you closer to him as you both begin to make your way to the train station.

To wait to head back to school, and for him to wait for his first day as a new professor. Something he's been excited for, but also dreading as a monthly lunar problem is the single obstacle in the way. And as much as you try to assure him, his worry doesn’t fade away. Even if he tries to hide it or simply say, “I’m your father, it’s not your job to worry about me.”

“Don’t worry,” he reassures you softly, “I won’t let that happen.”

——

“Intriguing isn’t it?” Your father—or “Professor Lupin”, says from the back of the class, “if anyone would like to venture a guess as to what is inside?”

“That’s a boggart that is.”

“Very good Mr. Thomas.” Your father compliments the boy. “Now can anyone tell me what a boggart looks like?” His eyes fall on you, signaling you quietly to answer a question about what hid inside the shaking wardrobe, but you discreetly shake your head and suddenly hear the voice of Hermione answer instead.

“No one knows.” She answered, causing Ron’s shoulders to jump slightly at her sudden presence beside him and remark at spontaneous appearance.

“When she get here?”

“Boggarts are shapeshifters. They take the shape of whatever particularly the person fears the most. That’s what makes them so—”

“...so terrifying yes. Yes” Your father finishes for Hermione.

The wardrobe does another violent shake while your father continues his path towards it, continuing to explain the lesson all in the meanwhile. “Luckily a very simple charm exists to repel a boggart. Let’s practice it now. Ah, without wands please. After me. Riddikulus.”

The class and you then repeat after him simultaneously. Having to repeat the charm again as your father instructs to say it louder. After that moment another sly comment from Draco catch’s your immediate attention. “This class is ridiculous.”

You silently turn your head to shoot him a glare he didn’t catch but you meant with every fiber in your body. Thinking to yourself even if you wanted to speak it outloud, “the only thing ridiculous here is him with that fake broken arm. How would he like if it was actually broken.”

“Very good, so much for the easy part.” Your father continues, clueless to Draco’s remark, “you see the incantation is not enough. What really finishes a boggart is laughter, you need to force it to assume the shape you find truly amusing,” his eyes search the crowd and they land on you and then shift to someone beside you. “Neville, darl—y/n, please join me, please.”

You cross your arms over your chest and very discreetly shake your head, noticing Neville look around scared and shocked he was even called. The reaction of you both causing your father to add to his previous comment. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

With a deep sigh you begin to drag your feet after Neville, hearing Ron snicker after you left his and Harry’s side.

“Hello,” your father mumbles as Neville and you make it to the front; “now Neville first. What frightens you most of all?”

Neville hesitates before choosing to answer nervously, “p-professor Snape.”

The class laughs at the answer, while you like your father simply can’t help but agree.

“Professor Snape,” your father repeated, “yeah, he frightens us all. And I believe you live with your grandmother?”

“Yes,” Neville stammers, “but I don’t want the boggart to turn into her either.”

Your father shakes his head, “no, it won’t. I want you to picture her clothes—only her clothes, very clearly in your mind.”

Neville begins to describe what he thought but he was quickly told otherwise, getting quietly explained what to do after the wardrobe opened. Making you step slightly to the side as your father opened the wardrobe to release the boggart that soon turned into Professor Snape. The figure going towards Neville who with help shouted out the incantation and caused the fake Professor to suddenly change in women’s clothing. Causing the other students and you to laugh.

“Wonderful Neville, wonderful, incredible!” Your father chuckled before he let the boy go, “okay to the back Neville. Y/n, if would please.”

With no other choice you step towards the middle of the room and face the wardrobe, feeling the annoyance from moments ago completely disappear and turn to dread as you feared what would be revealed. And not exactly fear for everyone’s reaction, or your own, but your fathers. You knew what you feared, and you knew it would affect him too.

But before you could escape and avoid being revealed, the boggart suddenly changed and it just showed you all alone, a single full moon hidden behind dark clouds and nothing else.

Because that was your fear, being alone without your father.

“Okay, darling,” he mumbled by your ear, parting away to continue the rest, “say it. Without help this time.”

You lift your wand and point at the boggart, drawing in a deep breath before stepping closer and breathing out the pent up breath of air to say the incantation out loud. “Riddikulus!”

The fake figure of yourself disappears and the moon begins to fly out towards the class and explodes in the air as if it fireworks. Lighting up the whole class in multiple colors and taking up different shapes that made the whole class laugh and made you smile brightly.

“Good job, y/n, incredible! To the back now! Everyone form a line.”

Without hesitation you do as he says, giving Ron a high five as he extended his hand for you before you reached the end to wait for the rest of the class to do theirs. However half of the class wasn’t able to do theirs as your father—or Professor Lupin ended the lesson after Harry shared his. Leaving you linger behind after you were forced to.

“Did you enjoy today’s lesson?” Your father asked as you walked back inside class.

You nod, not looking back at him and itching to leave and leave the topic you knew he wanted to discuss as it was. Nothing. “Very much. It was very fun. But I do have things to do. Like get ready to go out to town for the first time.”

“Ah, yes, but you’re not leaving right away,” he argued, “so I did want to discuss something….your boggart.”

You groan and keep your back turned to him, just trying to dismiss his worry. “It’s nothing papa, really, you don’t have to worry.”

“And I still want to talk about it, so if you would turn around to face me, please.”

Turning around slowly, you keep your gaze on the ground until he calls again.

“Darling please.” He spoke softly, “only for a moment...just tell me what the boggart was about.”

“Well,” you mutter as you walk to where he is by the shelf, “it was….I’m scared of…” you hesitate and tighten your hold on the shelf you’re leaned on, hearing no pressure come from him, hearing a uncomfortable only surround you, choke you until it was all too much pressure and your words just popped off. “I’m scared of being alone and not having you around.”

“You won’t.” He reassured you, placing his hand on your shoulder to bring you comfort, “now I can’t promise we’ll always be together, because you are going to get older and well you are going to eventually leave me.”

You scoff softly, “you know what I mean. What if something happens when you turn? Or during what’s to come.”

“Well,” he begins to fiddle with his fingers as he always did, taking a moment to give his full answer, “It's hard with what I deal with, but I do try to take care of myself so that something bad won’t happen. But as to what’s to come, you don’t have to worry. Enjoy being at school and have fun with your friends.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him and guide you out of the class. “And well you have nothing to fear darling. I’ll be with you for as long as I can.”

.

.

.

.

A/N- the ending of this made me so sad :( because of well what happens to him….ughh I’m so tempted to do a couple more parts to this just like til it gets to that part but I also don’t want to cry 🙁

[shepard-ram]

Hello Axe here, I come holding an au. Don’t mind me.

Okay so it’s called The Hunt and is a lot like the hunger games but much larger.

(Content warning! This is very blood, gore and death heavy. It could be yandere or not and can have the predator/prey dynamic along with fear. Fear is definitely going to be here. If you don’t like these or are sensitive to these topics then please don’t read this! If you do then me, shep and anyone who involves themselves in this au are not responsible for any triggers. We are not responsible for your emotions thank you!)

So there are two groups, one is named the hunted and the other is named the hunters. These two groups are chosen indiscriminately and at random.

Now for the bullet points, like I said you’ll see these often from me.

Okay so, Hunteds. What are they? Hunteds are people who get out into the arena for the hunt two weeks before the hunters. They’ll get a small note and possibly an item or two, the note will tell them who their Hunter is and the possible item could be a small map with landmarks or a compass. It’s usually something small. They’ll be placed all around the arena and in numbers from 1-7, if they want to survive they’ll need to work together but that doesn’t happen all the time.

Hunters. Hunters are well, the hunters. They’re released two weeks after the Hunteds and given the name and a picture of their hunted and a weapon of choice. Now the gore really starts. When all of the Hunters are released either fireworks or a horn sounds off and around the border of the arena doors/openings are opened. RIP any hunteds who decide to live near the border. What follows after is known as the death frenzy in which many Hunteds and Hunters die. Peace is an option but it’s an option many don’t know they can make.

Technical stuff. So how do you win this game? Basically to win you need to survive six months in this arena and kill your hunted/Hunter. You don’t have to kill your hunted/Hunter but it is strongly recommended because if someone else kills them you’ll die in the end. No matter what you do. So it’s a huge “only I can kill you” kinda thing, the deaths are also never announced so no one knows who’s alive or not. Now the characters knowing this is optional. If they know it could add to the whole angst thing of this AU but if they don’t it could still add just in a different way (two characters make a promise to each other to survive one of the characters hunted/Hunter dies without them knowing and the character who got out alive waits for their friend/lover but they never appear.)

After the game is a bit of a different story. The people who survive will either stay with the game or slip away into the cracks

Hunters having the same Hunted and vice versa does happen, the creators will do this on purpose sometimes for entertainment purposes. Also “cross teaming” doesn’t have much effect here, the only difference between groups is the way they start.

Now for characters. This could work with last life, hermitcraft, TFTSMP, Dsmp and everything and anything in between, as long as it’s a character you’re willing to write for they can be in the au. Hybrids do exist so hybrid reader or something like that can happen as well *looks at all the hybrid!reader fans*.

So yeah! That’s the au and I once again leave this at your door like a cat.

-Axe.

THE HUNT IS HERE THANK YOU AXE

While I myself am not super into angst, gore ect. the hunt got me invested back in the discord and I am definitely more than willing to order some more stock of tw tags and add some more to it. I do have my attachment to it! :D